


Mario Kart: Beanbean Circuit

by PuppyLuver256



Series: Second Chances for Swirled Eyes [2]
Category: Mario & Luigi RPG (Video Games), Mario Kart (Video Games), Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Major Character Injury, Original Character(s), but that doesn't happen until near the end so should I be tagging that...? eh just to be safe, technically brief underage drinking due to conflict of chronological and physical age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyLuver256/pseuds/PuppyLuver256
Summary: Two months since Fawful's return and he's managed to go unnoticed by the Mushroom Kingdom's citizens, or so it would seem. But when he gets a mysterious letter about a racing tournament, he sees an opportunity for a great comeback. (original posting dates September 25, 2015-July 20, 2017)





	1. The Letter from MKRC

It was a bright sunny day in Toad Town’s main square, and the people were caught up in the hustle and bustle of their daily routines. People were going about their business, doing their shopping and taking care of other errands, getting back to their work after their lunch hour came to an end, children off from school playing in the carefree manner that summer brings. In the crowded streets there was one person who, despite the diversity of all the people present, seemed to stand out from all the rest. He was a young Beanish man wearing clothes that were much too heavy for the summer heat. His face was mostly obscured by a medical mask save for his green eyes that sat behind a large pair of glasses. Still, he only seemed to be out of place in the manner that he was clearly foreign, not in a manner that would make him seem like a threat.

The masked bean made his way into a general store and began to look over the food stock set up just by the entranceway. The shopkeeper noticed him and, with a friendly smile, approached him. “Hey there, Lentil,” he said happily. “Good to see you again. How’ve things been? Still feeling under the weather, I take it?”

“Oh, hello,” Lentil said, waving to the shopkeeper. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit out of it the past few days. My brother was here yesterday, wasn’t he? Didn’t he tell you?”

“Ah yes, he did,” the shopkeeper said. “So, what can I do for ya?”

“Fava forgot some things when he was here yesterday,” Lentil laughed. “He always does that, the goof. I just wanted to get what he missed, and...maybe something extra...” He stared at the rack of candies by the checkout as he said this last bit.

“Well, take your time getting what you need,” the shopkeeper said.

Lentil did exactly that, and as he brought his goods up to pay he counted the money he had brought and, figuring he had enough to spare, grabbed a chocolate bar and added it to the purchase. As he gathered his goods in a bag and turned to leave, the shopkeeper stopped him. “Y’know, Lentil, I’ve been meaning to ask either you or Fava something for a while,” he said.

“What’s that?” Lentil asked.

“Well, I don’t mean to pry, but I’m just curious,” the shopkeeper said. “What brought you boys to the Mushroom Kingdom, anyway? We don’t get many Beanbean immigrants, after all.”

Lentil was silent. His eyes shifted to the floor and he backed away slightly. “I...er...”

The shopkeeper shook his head. “If you don’t wanna tell me, you don’t have to,” he said. “It’s not my place to get into people’s personal business, after all. Have a good day, okay?”

“You too,” Lentil said as he left the store. As he ran down the crowded streets, his medical mask could only hide the majority of his expression, the rest of it present in his eyes.

The wide, maniacal grin of someone who was absolutely confident that no one knew who he really was.

\-----

Living in a cave is weird. That is to say, for someone who has any other option, living in a cave is pretty weird. However, for those who don’t really have much choice, a cave might be a decent place to stay for a while. Especially if you’re incredibly resourceful, and the cave you’re staying in happens to be near an easily jacked source of power and internet.

The bean slid down the slope leading to his temporary lodging with his supplies, pulling off the thick hooded jacket, knitted hat, and medical mask once he was out of view from the outside. He took off his glasses, placing them near a rather haphazardly put together computer setup and grabbing a contact lens case. He took the contact lenses out of his eyes, one clear and one red, and put them into the case. He then took a small screwdriver to his glasses and loosened the frames around the lenses, popped them out, and replaced the lenses with much thicker ones, a spiral-pattern visible on the front.

His disguise removed for the day, Fawful laughed quietly to himself. Two months was a long time to keep up not just one, but two false identities, and he had been able to pull it off with relative ease. He was surprised with himself; surely someone would’ve seen through at least _one_ of his disguises, right? Then again, those foolish Toads had been so keen on trying his “special” mushrooms even with the obvious pattern of people becoming infected with Blorbs, so it probably wasn’t such a stretch to assume they were gullible enough to believe that he was actually two people based on the type of attire and colored contacts he was wearing. It helped that he was able to suppress his normal—well, normal for him—speech patterns while being either “Lentil” or “Fava”.

He booted up the computer in front of him, its screen casting a friendly glow over his face. The power company had somehow never noticed that there was an unauthorized connection added roughly two months ago, aside from perhaps a minor brownout in the immediate area. Neither did the cable internet provider to the suburban neighborhood just above the cave he had taken to living in, though the fact that he had installed his offshoot while the maintenance crew had been in the area to install new connections anyway more than likely had something to do with it.

With everything started up, it was time to once again try and get his life back on track. First things first, a job search. After the incident with the man in green, the first thing he had done was return to the space in the sewers of Peach’s castle that he had once called a home away from home. As he expected, his absence had taken its toll on the room once known as Fawful’s Bean-n-Badge. What wasn’t looted or vandalized was ruined by mold and other nasty sewer things. Somehow there had been a small handful of Beanbean Kingdom coins left behind, having been hidden in case of emergency when he was still a constant presence in the former shop. Getting it changed into Mushroom Kingdom coins had, predictably due to the highly fluctuating exchanged rate, provided him with a small boon, but after two months this boon was starting to become closer to a pittance, even with his careful budgeting.

Out of curiosity, he also decided to do a search on high-alert criminals. Despite the success his disguises had had, he wanted to be able to be Fawful in public again, not just in hiding as he roamed the streets as two fictional brothers. Sometimes he felt he should also try to concoct some plan of revenge, to do a little kingdom conquering again, but...he just didn’t have the heart for it anymore. “Green mustache of stupidness,” he murmured to himself. “He had leaving of something in me...” His search, of course, brought up Bowser first and foremost. This didn’t surprise him. A regular abductor of the kingdom’s matriarch, or matriarch-in-standing depending on the technicalities? Obviously going to be top notice. He scrolled through the page, no other faces really catching his notice. Near the bottom of the page, however, he saw something that was intimately familiar. It was his own face. “Damn.” It seemed he was still considered a notable threat. That’s when he noticed the footnote. “ _No sightings in over five years—likely left abroad or deceased._ ”

Six. It had been six years, not five. When Fawful first found out how long he had been...for lack of a better word, _gone_ , he couldn’t believe it. A whole six years from his life gone just like that. Physically he had barely changed, that is once he had completely reformed properly without those weird half-formed spidery limbs. But for all intents and purposes, he was an adult now, even though he still felt very much like a teenager. He could even technically legally drink if he were so inclined, though he remembered having thought the idea of alcohol to be disgusting.

He closed out of that tab. It was just making him feel depressed. If the Mushroom Kingdom felt that he was still worth being considered a threat after having not been seen in six years, there was no way he would ever be allowed back into the borders of his homeland. If someone became an enemy of the Beanbean royal family, they would be hunted down not just for years, but for _decades_. He knew he would never be able to go home. At least not without a miracle, or at least an unbelievable stroke of good fortune.

Internet use has a way of making some people forget about the passage of time. The sky outside had begun to darken, and Fawful was getting tired. He needed sleep. He shut off his computer and got ready for bed. He pulled his trademark cape around him as a blanket, it having been used for this purpose rather than as a garment for the past two months.

Like always, tomorrow would be another day.

\-----

Fawful had gone into town again in his “Fava” disguise, the type of outfit he had chosen for this identity to prefer being much more suitable for the weather. Once again he was scanning the windows of the shops for any hint of signs of people hiring. As he made his way through the town, he didn’t notice the Paratroopa flying towards him until he bumped into right into him, falling backwards onto the pavement. “Owww, my face is having the hurting...” he muttered to himself. He realized too late that he had let his typical speech pattern slip in, but thankfully the Paratroopa didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry!” the Paratroopa said nervously. “I wasn’t watching where I was going!

“Well, be more careful next time, geez,” Fawful said, easily covering for his earlier slip-up.

“Normally I’m very careful,” the Paratroopa insisted. “I just saw this letter that I have to deliver, but it only has names and no address so I was confused as to how I would get it to its recipients...”

“That’s weird,” Fawful said. “Who sends off a letter with no address?”

“You’d be surprised how often it happens,” the Paratroopa said with a nervous laugh. He held out a hand to shake. “The name’s Parakarry, by the way. The Mushroom Kingdom’s number one mailman! ...Er, somewhat.”

“Fava,” Fawful said, taking Parakarry’s hand in his.

“Fava, huh?” Parakarry’s eyes lit up. “You wouldn’t happen to have a brother named Lentil, would you?”

In actuality, no, but while in disguise Fawful had to keep up appearances. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, what incredible luck!” Parakarry exclaimed. He reached into his bag and pulled out a letter, the flap of the envelope sealed with a glittering sticker seal that looked like either a number 8 or an infinity symbol, depending on how you looked at it. He handed it to Fawful, who took the letter and read what was printed on its front.

“ _To the Beanish brothers, Lentil and Fava_ ”

Fawful raised an eyebrow. He knew that no one but him knew the truth, but why would anyone send a letter to people who didn’t exist? And even if they believed his brother identities were real, who would have reason to write them a letter? “Is this really for me? Er, us?”

“Well, Beanish aren’t really common around here, so it’s highly likely so,” Parakarry said. “‘Sides, if it’s not meant for you guys, you can always bring it back. Just seal it back up with a note explaining...yeah.” He adjusted his mail bag and began to ascend. “I’d better be going. Lots of mail to deliver and all that. See you around!” And with that, he flew off.

Fawful could barely contain his curiosity. Just what was in this letter? He knew exactly why it didn’t have an address, and that was because he technically didn’t have an address to send things to. Or rather, Lentil and Fava didn’t have one. But why was it so important to send physical mail to someone who didn’t have an address? _There is only being one way to have finding out,_ he thought to himself. He couldn’t just wait until he returned to his cave, he had to know NOW. Carefully, he slid his thumb underneath the envelope’s flap and split the sticker sealing it. He slid out the letter and unfolded it. Reading the first line of the letter, however, caused his stomach to drop.

“ _To the Beanish inventor, Fawful Gracovitz_ ”

He nearly dropped the letter in shock. His _name_ , his _actual full name_ , was printed right there in plain sight. How did anyone know? Who was this person, and why were they sending him mail? He appreciated this mystery sender using his aliases on the envelope, at least. Was it Luigi? Or that professor that had gotten them separate? No, he had never told them his last name, unless maybe Luigi picked it up somehow when they were merged? But then he wouldn’t know about his aliases...

He had to get back to his cave, away from potentially prying eyes.

\-----

Back in the safety of his cave, Fawful wasted no time investigating the strange letter. He didn’t even bother removing any part of his disguise, even though the contact lenses were reaching that point where they were starting to irritate his eyes. Something he had noticed in the time it took him to return was that it felt a bit too thick to be _just_ a letter. He re-opened the letter and, with the slightest bit of hesitation, pulled the letter out in its entirety.

“ _To the Beanish inventor, Fawful Gracovitz_

_Yes, we know who you are. Do not fret. We have no intention of handing you over to the authorities. We represent the recruitment committee of the Mushroom Kingdom Racing Circuit, and we feel that your notoriety and intellect would make you an ideal candidate to become one of the circuit’s newest racers._

_Every racer will be provided with a large selection of vehicles to choose from, and regardless of overall placement in the races all coins earned on each track will be yours to keep. Enclosed with this letter is a decal specifically designed to represent you and a racer identification card that will allow you access to the participants-only areas. Should you choose to accept, please arrive at the address listed on the other side of this letter on the specified date._

_Regards,  
The MKRC Committee_ ”

Racing, huh? Fawful recalled seeing a few trophies that were labeled as being prizes for some sort of racing tournament in Bowser’s castle when he had taken it over, but he had melted down the gold ones to be used as circuitry for the multitude of robots he had built during his brief rein over both the Koopa and Mushroom Kingdoms. He turned his attention back to the envelope, which he had tossed aside when he had removed the letter in full. Inside there was indeed a plastic card and what appeared to be a stylized version of his face, characteristic grin and all. Looking over the card he saw that it already had a number of personal details that he didn’t recall sharing with anyone, but he figured they could’ve easily been grabbed from public records. The identification portrait on the card was an illustration that he vaguely remembered having commissioned from one of his minions when he had any (strangely, he couldn’t remember the name, just that the artist was his minion), and it was still fairly impressive even now.

Looking over the letter again, Fawful started to consider that perhaps joining this race wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He turned the letter over and the brief elation he had felt dropped instantly. The address that was listed for the meetup was in Beanbean Castle Town. This...was going to be a major problem. Then again, he had no idea whether or not the Beanbean Kingdom knew if he had survived the fall from Bowser’s castle after he and Cackl—er, Bowletta had been ejected from it. For all he knew, that foolishly arrogant Prince Peasley probably boasted to everyone who would listen that he and the Mario Bros. had ended him for good. He had no idea whether or not anyone informed the Beanbean Kingdom that he had returned years later to not only re-take Bowser’s castle, but Peach’s castle as well.

The trademark wide grin spread across Fawful’s face once more. Intelligence did not always equate to common sense, and this was a situation where the risk seemed to be well worth the reward. “This is being the opportunity of _perfection!_ ” Fawful shouted. “The glorious feast which is my comeback will have beginning on the track of races!” He laughed, adding, “I have chortles!”

It was then that he finally took notice of the overwhelming stinging the contacts were causing in his eyes. “Ouchings,” he winced as he made to remove the offending pieces of plastic. “I am needing to remember to have removal of these sooner...”


	2. Homecoming of the Newcomer

The Beanbean Kingdom was notorious for having incredibly lax border security in the places that needed the most surveillance, something that Fawful was grateful hadn’t changed since the last time he had been there. He had conveniently completed the third iteration of his headgear a few days prior to receiving the mysterious racing invitation, and while he had an inkling that it wouldn’t help him out very much during the races proper, it would at least prove very helpful in getting over the border undetected. The familiar roar of the headgear’s rockets by his ears only served to heighten his feelings of nostalgia as he flew over the eerily smiling trees of his homeland.

Fawful touched down just outside of the castle town’s city limits, taking the time to turn his cape inside-out as he had worn it once when distributing the Blorb mushrooms throughout the Mushroom Kingdom. Revealing himself was going to be inevitable at this point, yes, but he wanted to be able to get to the actual race check-in with as little trouble as possible. That, and he admittedly wanted his eventual reveal to be dramatic, not to mention on his terms. He entered the castle town and made his way to the check-in point. He took in the sights, noting the changes that had taken place in the twelve years since he had last seen it, and was so caught up in it that he didn’t notice he was about to walk into someone until the person gave a shout. “Hey, mind payin’ more attention to what’s in your path while you’re walkin’?” the person said.

“I have apology,” Fawful said, his voice in a low tone so he could keep more of a low profile. He noticed that the person, a Beanish like him, was wearing a grey cloak similar to his reversed cape, though the other Beanish person chose to accent their cloak with a vibrant red scarf. “We are having style of similarity,” he chuckled.

The scarfed Beanish laughed. “Guess we are,” they said. “So you a tourist or somethin’? You had that sight-seeing look about you.”

“You...could have the saying of that,” Fawful replied, choosing his words carefully. “I am actually being from here, I just had the travel for years of much too many for reasons that are being too long to have explanation.”

“Hey, I’m not askin’ for your life story or anything,” the scarfed Beanish insisted. “Though I bet you’re here for that awesome racing tournament that’s takin’ place soon, aren’t ya?”

Fawful nodded. “You have hitting the nail right on its head!” he said.

“Well, you seem like a good egg,” the scarfed Beanish said (Fawful having to do his best to stifle a laugh at this due to their terrible judge of character). “If you need anything while you’re here, look me up. Name’s Edame, by the way. You?”

“...You will have finding out in enough soonness,” Fawful said with a smile. He passed by toward his destination, leaving Edame confused as to what he meant.

\-----

The Mario Bros were eager for the racing tournament to begin and were waiting for the moment when the new competitors would be revealed in anticipation. It had been a long time since they had last been to the Beanbean Kingdom as well, so they decided to take in the sights due to being there for pleasure rather than dire circumstances. “I can’t wait to see what’s in store for us this time!” Luigi said excitedly.

“You said it, Luigi,” Mario said. “I mean, this year’s tournament has really amped it up since the last one. First the anti-gravity stuff, then Link and that nice dog lady...they’re just pulling out all the stops!”

“Maybe they’ll get some of those squid kids to join in,” Luigi laughed.

As the brothers leisurely made their way to Beanbean Castle, a familiar form swiftly passed overhead. It was a Beanish man dressed in simplified royal garb, his brilliant blonde hair flowing in the breeze as he flew past on his winged bean. The man slowed his flight, apparently having noticed the brothers, and lowered to where he could step off of the winged bean. “Greetings, Mario Bros.!” Prince Peasley said jovially, walking toward Mario and Luigi as they also walked toward him. “Welcome back to the Beanbean Kingdom! It has been far too long!”

“It’s good to see you again, Prince Peasley,” Mario said, smiling. “I take it you’re here to oversee the races?”

“You could say that,” Peasley replied with a light chuckle. “Of course, my presence here is a bit more than just formality—” He quickly stopped himself, as if almost giving away something he shouldn’t. “Maybe I should stop before I spoil the surprise, shouldn’t I?” he chuckled again. “Anyway, the official cup’s starting announcement is going to be in a few hours if I’ve gotten the time right, so I’d better be on my way.” He brushed his well-maintained locks out of his face (they glittered somewhat as he did so, as usual), then stepped onto his winged bean once again and let it carry him off towards the castle. “See you soon, Mario and Luigi!” he called to them with a wave, as well as a wink to Luigi.

“Wow, Prince Peasley is so cool,” Luigi said, blushing a little.

Mario raised an eyebrow in a joking brotherly way. “I thought you were steady with Daisy?” he asked.

Luigi pouted. “Doesn’t mean I can’t admire anyone else.”

\-----

The sunset made Beanbean Castle seem to glow with a friendly warmth. The racers of the current MKRC tournament, as well as MKRC staff (almost all of which were Lakitus), were all gathered in the castle’s courtyard. The usual group of plumbers and princesses and their infant counterparts, Bowser and his children, citizens of the Mushroom Kingdom and members of the Koopa Troop were present, as well as the newcomers. Mario recognized the hero of Hyrule from earlier in the tournament, as well as the authorities of a small town the name of which was currently escaping him, but he soon spotted someone chatting with Princess Peach whom had not been present in any of the previous races, yet he definitely recognized from somewhere. Her appearance was vastly different from the other racers; she seemed to be made up of entirely geometric shapes, mainly squares with spindly, stick-like arms and legs. Her skin was green, as were her square-shaped pigtails, and she was dressed quite fashionably.

As Mario approached the young woman in an attempt to see if his presumptions as to the newcomer’s identity were correct, Peach noticed him and pointed him out to her. The young woman turned, her face and the fact her smile widened upon seeing the plumber in red confirming that it was who he believed her to be. “Hey, Mario!” the young woman called out to him, giggling happily as she waved. “Long time no see!”

“Good to see you again, Mimi!” Mario said. “What are you doing here?”

Mimi gave one of her trademark giggles. “Isn’t it obvious?” she asked. “Or am I allowed to say before they officially announce it...?” She shrugged. “Oh, who cares? I’m gonna be racing with you guys!”

“Wow, that’s great!” Mario exclaimed.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Peach asked with a smile. “We’ve just been catching up until they make the announcement.”

“Yeah, sounds like you guys’ve been up to all kinds of weird stuff!” Mimi said. “I mean, what’s this about a comet that shoots out sparkly stickers?”

Mario winced slightly and tried to avoid Mimi’s curious gaze. “I...would rather that we not talk about _that_ particular... _event_ ,” he muttered hesitantly.

“Uh, okay.” Mimi raised an eyebrow, but decided not to press the issue.

With all the commotion between people catching up and staff taking care of last-minute setup, no one noticed the somewhat conspicuous cloaked person making his way to the staff. Carefully making sure no one else was watching him, he approached the registration booth and lowered his hood. The Lakitu manning the registration looked up, adjusting his glasses as he did so. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“I am being here to have confirmation of my racer registration,” Fawful said quietly.

“Registration?” the Lakitu repeated. He looked through a tablet he had and nodded. “We’ve got one unconfirmed racer left, I take it you’re Fawf—”

Fawful quickly shushed the Lakitu. “Not with such loudness!” he insisted. “I have the wishing for my being here to be of the surprising.”

“Oh, all right then,” the Lakitu said. He turned around and quickly typed something into the computer nearby. “Your entry’s confirmed and you’re good to go. Wishing you the best of luck, Mr. Gracovitz.”

“I will not be needing the luck-wishes,” Fawful said with a laugh, raising his hood once more as he made his way toward the crowd of his fellow racers. “I am having the _skill_.”

\-----

Soon enough, it was time for the new racers to be announced. Mario was just as intrigued as everyone else, even with one of the racers’ identities already known to him. Everyone gathered in anticipation of the announcement near the stage the new racers would eventually take their places on. “All right, is everyone ready?” the Lakitu in charge of the announcement asked the racers and onlookers alike. “It’s time to announce the three newcomers to the racing world!”

The crowd cheered and clapped, but quickly allowed their excitement to die down to let the Lakitu give the announcement. “Our first newcomer,” the Lakitu began, “is an interesting young woman from another dimension with a flair for the finer things. Please welcome Mimi!” Mimi leapt onstage with glee, giggling as she waved to everyone watching. They all clapped happily, most of them doing so out of politeness or at least social expectation in the case of the less courteous of those present, but the most enthusiastic of clapping and cheering came from Mario, Peach, Luigi, and surprisingly Bowser.

“Our next newcomer is also our gracious benefactor for this opening ceremony,” the Lakitu said. “The noble prince of the Beanbean Kingdom, Prince Peasley!” The Beanish prince stepped onto the stage proudly, bowing lightly before the crowd and running a hand through his glistening hair.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting Peasley to join in the fun,” Mario chuckled as he joined the others in their renewed clapping.

“And finally,” the Lakitu said as the furvor died down once more, “last but certainly not least, this man’s intellect is equaled only by his innermost fury. Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone else, our final racer is none other than Fawful!”

The grey-cloaked individual that had been hiding in plain sight within the crowd suddenly made his presence known and jumped onto the stage. He quickly reversed his cloak, revealing it to be a brilliant red cape that now billowed behind him dramatically. “Surprise to you, fink-rats!” Fawful exclaimed with a laugh. “Bet you had thinking you had the last sight of me!” Gasps and concerned murmurs rang out from the crowd, particularly from those who had known of Fawful’s exploits in both the Beanbean and Mushroom Kingdoms.

Peasley was beside himself at this reveal. “Why is HE here?!” he shouted. “More importantly, _how_ is he here?! While we’re at it, who in their right MIND would invite a menace like HIM to an event like THIS?!”

Luigi raised an eyebrow at this. “And you’re not questioning Bowser being here, because...?” he asked.

“Now remain calm, everyone!” the Lakitu said insistently. “That is, everyone who’s freaking out.” He shook his head. “I’m sure that he would not have been allowed into the roster if he were an imminent threat to anyone’s safety—”

“You consider someone like Fawful to not be an ‘imminent threat’?” Mario suddenly and uncharacteristically interrupted. “Clearly no one in charge of recruitment ever looked into his background—”

“Again, everyone’s suddenly overlooking Bowser being in these races since they’ve started _why?_ ” Luigi asked with a sigh.

“You’ve got a bit of a point, green ‘stache,” Bowser growled, pointing a claw at the bespectacled Beanish, “but I’m _nothing_ like him!”

“You are being right, king of Koopas,” Fawful said with a taunting grin. “I have _smartness_.”

Bowser’s eyes widened in slight shock, his expression quickly changing to that of anger. “YOU SLIMY LITTLE—” He tries to rush the stage, presumably to attack Fawful, but he was held back by two of his larger children and Donkey Kong. Wario and Waluigi, despite being closer and therefore more able to stop him than the nicer of the plumbers they bore resemblance to, did nothing to help and instead egged him on by clapping and shouting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” like a pair of immature schoolboys.

“Wait...am I missing something here?” Mimi asked, confused. “Why’s everyone going crazy over this guy?”

“It’s a long story, I’ll explain later,” Peach said. “I’m just curious how he survived the...well, how he survived.”

The Lakitu floated over to Bowser, who was still fighting against the combined strength of his sons and the gorilla who were pretty much the only thing standing between him and his goal of tearing the bean a new one. “Now, King Bowser, you remember the most important rule of the Mushroom Kingdom Racing Circuit, don’t you?” the Lakitu asked in a surprisingly calm manner. “No off-track aggression from racers, period. You certainly don’t want to face the consequences of breaking that rule, do you?”

“...Fine,” Bowser said with a defiant snort. He immediately stopped trying to attack Fawful, though he obviously didn’t look happy about it.

This reaction made Fawful slightly uneasy. “Er, what would have happening to the person who is breaking this rule of most importance?” he asked the Lakitu.

“Anyone caught instigating off-track aggression—that is, anyone who attacks another racer during the event—is immediately barred from participation in the current tournament.” The Lakitu turned his gaze to Fawful, a glare in his eye that gave of an air of authority that had not been there previously. “This also goes for newcomers. Keep that in mind, all right?”

Fawful nodded nervously. “Point of goodness,” he said. “I will have remembering.”

“All right, then,” the Lakitu said with a sense of finality, suggesting that that settled the whole thing. He then turned to the rest of the crowd, primarily the racers. “Now then, to the tournament preliminaries!” he exclaimed. “The racers will be competing for the final twelve positions in the Bean Cup racing roster. As per usual, you will all have the week to practice your personal times on each of the four tracks that will be featured in the Cup. At the end of the week, the twelve racers with the best average times across all tracks will be placed in the final roster. Good luck to all of you!”

\-----

Fawful unlocked and opened the door to his room at the hotel the MKRC were using to temporarily house the racers for the duration of the tournament. All of the others were in the lobby holding a party to top off the evening of the tournament’s start, but he doubted he would be welcomed at the festivities by most of them. Suited him just fine, as he had exhausted his usual ability to be social (or at least showy) for the day. He gave the room a quick look-over. It wasn’t terribly big, but thankfully it wasn’t terribly small either. The room had a small bathroom tucked away just past the entry door, a small kitchen counter with a microwave, coffee maker, and minifridge, and two identically made beds. “Two beds...” Fawful murmured aloud. “I had hoping they would be giving us rooms of single.”

He sat his belongings, thankfully not much more than his headgear and laptop, beside the bed nearest the window and proceeded to flop down onto that same bed. Ah, a bed! An actual bed! After months of living in a cave like some kind of hobo, the simple pleasure of a bed was like heaven. Fawful breathed a deep sigh of relaxation, letting the mattress and pillows practically swallow him. He could’ve gone to sleep right then and there if not for the sudden clicking of the door’s lock mechanism and the subsequent clatter of it opening. He groaned, his suspicions on why he was given a double-bed room confirmed as his roommate for the tournament’s duration walked in on slightly heavy steps.

“Hey, you’re that Fawful guy, right?” the new occupant asked. As Fawful didn’t recognize the voice, he turned to see...someone he didn’t recognize the appearance of, either, at least not very well. He could tell that, being a spike-shelled Koopa, he must be one of Bowser’s kids, the names of which he couldn’t remember for the life of him. He didn’t remember any of them having vibrant green hair, though. “Looks like we’re roomies for now,” he said with a laugh. “Sounds good to me!”

“You are being one of the Koopalings, yes?” Fawful asked.

“Iggy Koopa, to be exact,” he said, smiling. “So hey, how come you weren’t at the party?”

Fawful hesitated. “It’s, uh, not being a thing that is mine,” he said. He technically wasn’t lying, even though he normally had no problem in doing so. It really wasn’t his thing to be mingle with people with whom he shared a mutual dislike.

Iggiy shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. “It’s totally my sort of thing, but King Dad said the party was headed in a direction that he didn’t want us to be part of soooo...yeah, that’s why I’m here and not there.”

“Did Bowser really have the fathering of all of you?”

“Yes and no,” Iggy said sheepishly. “Biologically speaking, his only kid is Junior, but he’s been a father to all of us regardless of blood relation.” He laughed a bit. “Bet you’re surprised I’d tell that to someone I just met, huh?”

Fawful nodded, then rolled over on his bed. “The time has lateness,” he muttered sleepily. “I would like to be getting some sleep now.”

“Oh, okay,” Iggy said. “I probably should, too. G’night.”

The lights were soon dimmed, and despite the pale moonlight shining right into his eyes through the curtains he was too lazy to get up and close and the eventual din of snoring that started from Iggy’s side of the room, Fawful was soon able to peacefully fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date May 14, 2016)


	3. Moonview Highway

It was the first morning of the tournament and the Mario Bros. were getting ready to head down to the track. Despite the party from the previous night, they were both in relatively good spirits, or so it seemed. “I just don’t get it,” Mario said to Luigi as the younger brother was brushing his teeth. “What is Fawful even doing here? I figured after he exploded inside Bowser he was finished.”

Luigi said nothing, but that was only because his mouth was full of mint-flavored foam. He finally spit and replied, “I wish I knew, honestly.”

Mario gave his brother a weird look. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked. “You seem way too calm about all this.”

“Too calm? Why would this be too calm?” Luigi shrugged. “I mean, Fawful can’t actually do anything to us or he’ll get kicked out of the race.”

Mario shook his head. “You’re giving him too much credit,” he insisted. “This is _Fawful_ we’re talking about, remember? If he wants to do something evil, I highly doubt the threat of not being allowed to race would be enough to stop him. What if it were Dimentio that randomly showed up with no warning? Would you defend him, too?”

“They’re not the same person!” Luigi half-shouted. “Fawful’s just a kid! I mean, kind of a messed up kid, but still a kid—”

“Luigi, you seem way too eager to defend him,” Mario interrupted. “Are you hiding something?”

Luigi tensed up. He’d said too much. “H-hiding something?” he repeated, the nervousness evident in his voice. “Nah, bro, that’s just—I mean, that’s silly! Wh-what makes you think I’d be hiding something?”

“Luigi...” 

Luigi sighed. “...Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I... _may_ have... _some_ involvement in the whole Fawful being back thing...”

“Wait, what?!”

“I swear it was unintentional!” Luigi blurted out. “And when I found him he had already returned to over half of his normal self anyway...”

Mario just stared in disbelief. “What the...when was this?!” he asked.

“The ghost flu incident,” Luigi said. “I was never sick, the professor was just trying to cover for us. “

“Ghost flu?” Mario racked his brain, trying to remember the last time he had heard that phrase. “That was...wait a minute, that was a couple months ago. He’s been back for that long?”

Luigi nodded. “Yep. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He sighed, as if the secret had been weighing hard on him for that time. “I...got to know him a bit better during that time, and I figured he wouldn’t get up to anything bad too soon after that.” He also figured it best not to mention the exact circumstances of the reason they had been together in the first place, for the sake of Mario’s sanity.

“Well, you were right about that, at least up until now,” Mario said. “Still...” He shook his head. “Never mind worrying about it now, I guess. If you trust him to behave himself, I’ll trust your judgement.”

\-----

Fawful made his way down the hall from his room to the elevator as quickly as possible. He didn’t know how the procedure to getting your vehicle set up was supposed to go, and in case they were on a “first come, first serve” policy he wanted to get there with enough time to be able to choose the perfect one for him. He had just rounded the corner where the elevator would be when he almost literally ran into Mario. Thankfully he was able to stop in time to avoid colliding with him. “Fink-rat!” Fawful blurted out upon seeing him. He glared, then remembered the rule of not antagonizing other racers and quickly changed his demeanor. “Uh, I have meaning, red mustache,” he corrected himself.

“Well, I would’ve preferred my name, but ‘red mustache’ is definitely an improvement,” Mario said.

“What are you wanting?” Fawful asked.

Mario sighed. “Look, I know we’ve had some bad blood, but if Bowser can behave himself in these races I believe you can too.” He held out his hand with an apologetic smile.

“I am not having the choice here,” Fawful reminded him, but he smiled his typical wide smile nonetheless. “So you are offering the cake of truce, then?”

“Yeah, I guess if you want to put it that way,” Mario said, and the two shook hands. “Just...watch out for Luigi.”

Fawful laughed. “If you think I will have the easy takings toward green mustache you are of the mistaking!” he exclaimed.

Mario shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean,” he insisted. “I'm trying to _warn_ you to be _careful_. When Luigi's behind the wheel he gets very, very, VERY... _competitive_.”

Fawful rolled his eyes, despite the thickness of his glasses preventing anyone from knowing the gesture but himself. “I will have believing when I have the sight of it,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

Mario shrugged. “Well, either way, good luck out there,” he said. _And don’t say I didn’t warn you,_ he thought to himself, but kept himself from saying so out loud.

“It is you who will be needing that luck, red mustache!” Fawful exclaimed. With that, he made his way down the hall, laughing in premature victory.

\-----

The Beanbean Castle courtyard was normally a serene, picturesque place for one to rest and relax, but with the presence of the MKRC at least half of the grounds were taken up by the garage set up for the racers to put together the vehicle they would be using for the coming races. Fawful was trying to figure out the build selector, or more accurately trying to figure out which parts would be the best for him to use. The selection was huge, and admittedly a bit overwhelming. “So many different things of wonderfulness...” Fawful muttered to himself. “How will I ever have choosing?”

“Tell me about it.”

Fawful gave a small yelp of surprise before turning around to see who had startled him. It was a young woman, wearing a crown similar to Peach aside from the flower symbol emblazoned on it. She had short brown hair and was dressed in a white and gold racing jumpsuit. “Do not be sneaking up on Fawful!” he shouted at the woman. “I have _concentration_.”

“Gee, sorry,” the woman said with a slight laugh. “Didn’t realize you’d flip like that.” She sighed. “But yeah, it’s always difficult trying to pick. Even back where we only got to pick the karts as a whole thing, it was a pain deciding.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Daisy, by the way.”

Fawful took her hand and reciprocated the shake. “I am being Fawful,” he said. 

“I know all about you, beanie,” Daisy said, smirking. “Or at least, I know everything that Peach knew. Any time she goes somewhere or gets kidnapped, she tells me every detail after. You’re nearly as big a menace as Bowser from what I’ve heard, and with only two offenses under your belt? Geez.”

Fawful couldn’t help but grin at his reputation; even if he had to be on his best behavior now, he still had a good deal of pride for his misdeeds. At that moment, the baby versions of Mario, Luigi, Peach, Daisy, and Rosalina ran past, giggling happily as they played. “Babies?” Fawful asked, confused. “Who is having the need to bring so many babies of smallness?”

“Oh, they’re racers,” Daisy said matter-of-factly. “Yeah, some weird time portal thing let ‘em come to the present or something like that, I don’t know enough about that sort of thing to explain it.”

Fawful grimaced. “Are these races not having the death of babies?!”

“Wha—” Daisy gasped in shock. “No, absolutely not!” she insisted. “Where the hell did you get _that_ idea?”

“...it is being a story of much length.”

Baby Mario then noticed Fawful and pointed him out to Baby Luigi. They both then ran up to him, giggling gleefully. “Fobble!” Baby Mario exclaimed.

“Oh, this just has perfection,” Fawful moaned.

“Fobble! Fobble!” Baby Luigi chimed in.

Baby Mario hugged Fawful around the leg. “Bean Fobble!”

“My name is not being Fobble!” Fawful groaned in annoyance. He tried in vain to pry the red-capped infant from his leg, but there’s just something about babies and holding on to something they really want that makes it impossible to separate the two. “The world really is having smallness if these two are bringing their silly faces back to me,” he sighed.

“Considering from what I’ve heard of you facing off against their older selves at least twice, I’m really not surprised,” Daisy said.

“...You are saying what?” Fawful asked.

Daisy gave him a weird look. “You didn’t notice the same hats?” she asked. “The similar outfits?”

Fawful quickly put two and two together. “They are being...the mustaches as babies?”

“If by ‘mustaches’ you mean Mario and Luigi, yeah,” Daisy replied. “I’d think it was obvious.”

“I had the _helping_ of the mustaches I hate?!” He made a strange face and a sound that resembled that of the precursor to vomiting. “I HAVE DISGUST!”

Fawful left in a huff, having finally managed to get the babies to stop trying to hang onto his legs and cape. In his annoyed state he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and bumped into Link, who had been loitering around and playing a blue potato-shaped instrument. “Oh, sorry, was I in your way?” Link asked.

Fawful shook his head. “It is being fine,” he said.

“All right.” Link smiled. “Good luck with the time trials...er, Fawful, was it?”

Fawful put his finger up to shush Link, having finally decided upon the perfect combination of parts for his kart. He finalized the decision and laughed. “It has perfection!” he exclaimed. “The vehicle that is mine is deliciously done for the dinner!” He ran off toward the track teleporters, giggling all the way.

Link stared at the bean as he left, dumbfounded. “Um...okay...”

\-----

The first of the event’s tracks was located in a brilliantly lit city, with the starting line set just outside of its more populated area. Fawful had no memory of such a place being located anywhere in the Beanbean Kingdom, and considering that one of the signs promoting the races had a slightly different logo than what had been posted at the garage he suspected this had been a previous racetrack that the committee decided to reuse. What was most peculiar was that even though he had left the castle courtyard an hour or so before noon, the sky above clearly displayed a large, pale full moon and twinkling stars not overpowered by the sun, though of course the light pollution from the city wasn’t doing these stars any favors.

Fawful looked at the tablet screen he had been using to build his kart and opened a small video introducing the track he had been sent to. “Moonview Highway...” he read aloud. “The name is certainly having appropriateness.” He examined the map of the track he was given and made his way to the starting line. His vehicle was waiting for him, along with a small box containing three speed-boosting mushrooms. Fawful couldn’t help but take the time to admire the kart he had put together; its sleek, blue body was wonderfully contrasted by the industrial look of the metal wheels attached, and popping open a small compartment in the back let loose a colorful paraglider. Whatever use a paraglider could have in racing Fawful had no idea, but he was just too excited to get started to care.

There was only one thing left to do first. He reached into a pocket on the inside of his cape and pulled out the emblem that had been sent to him with the letter, his real smile being just as wide as the one printed on the emblem’s graphic. He placed it onto the kart’s body and it attached itself with a soft yet audible click, the displays on the kart’s back fin altering to match the emblem. Giggling gleefully, he leapt into the kart’s seat and would’ve been good to go, if it weren’t for one very important detail.

“Heeeey! Fellow newbie!”

Make that two important details. Slightly annoyed, he turned around to see the girl that had been announced as a new racer alongside him (Mimi, was it?), approaching on her own vehicle. She had chosen a bike setup for hers, the body of which honestly looked more appropriate for a night out on the town than any serious racing. “So, how’s it goin’?” she asked cheerfully, stopping her bike beside his kart. “You get through your time trial yet or are you just getting started?”

“I just had arriving, yes,” Fawful said.

“Well, don’t let me keep you, then,” Mimi said. She dismounted her parked bike and leaned on it casually. “Good luck out there, all right, bean guy?”

“Thanking to you.” Fawful hesitated, looking around on his kart for whatever would help him out of the problem he had just realized he was facing. It wouldn’t be nearly as frustrating if someone weren’t there staring at him the whole time. “I will be going in a time that is short!” he laughed nervously. “Just...have needing to get the bearings...”

Mimi tilted her head a bit, confused, then giggled. “Don’t tell me you don’t even know how to drive!” she said.

“I am knowing how to drive!” Fawful shouted defensively. “I...just...am not knowing the specifics of driving _this_.”

“S’not much different from a regular car, honest,” Mimi said.

Well, if he was going to divulge such a dumb yet slightly embarrassing tidbit of information like this, at least he would be doing it with someone who didn’t appear to be aware of his reputation yet. Maybe she wouldn’t judge. “The driving of regular cars...is not an experience I am having,” Fawful admitted. “Ever.”

“What, really?” Mimi asked with a laugh. So much for not judging. “Though to be fair, I guess I can’t be surprised they’d pick someone who can’t drive if they’re allowing literal babies in the races.”

“It is not like I am ever needing it before this moment!” Fawful insisted. “The transportation of Fawful is using methods that have more convenience and personality.”

“D’you need help with the basics, at least?”

“No thanking, I have belief that part is cake,” Fawful said, though adding under his breath, “cake that is being under guard by dogs that have fury and hunger, but cake regardless.” Of course with his mechanical experience, he was able to start the kart without any trouble. He gingerly tested the pedals to check which did what (the kart jumped a bit when he discovered the gas pedal), and once he got a good grip on the controls, he turned to Mimi, gave her a cheeky grin, and propelled his kart like a rocket.

As Fawful sped along the curved forest road, the wind rushing past him gave an odd sense of nostalgia similar to the feeling he had when flying with his headgear. The lack of rocket sounds right beside his “ears” was a nice bonus, as was the view given by the differing perspective. It was amazing. At least, it was until an errant car slammed into him and completely steamrolled him. Fawful let out a cry of shock, but strangely was completely unharmed. He and his kart were cartoonishly flattened, yes, but he felt none of the pain he would have expected from such an impact. Soon enough he returned to normal, though was still confused as to how he had survived and why regular cars were allowed on a racetrack.

The curved road soon led back into the city he had been brought to in the first place, the bright lights and flashy advertisements catching his attention almost instantly. The track’s path took him straight through traffic, both coming towards and driving alongside the direction dictated. However, he was aware and prepared this time, and somehow managed to weave his way through the vehicles without being run over again. 

As he rounded the city street curves, he passed through what appeared to be a tollbooth, though of course as this was part of a race there was no one there to collect any sort of payment or even any payment required. He started to slow down as he saw the finish line, but Mimi waved at him, shouting, “Keep going, you doofus! You’re getting graded for two more laps!” Sure enough, a screen posted near the starting line displayed sections for the times of three laps, so to make up for his brief confused braking he gunned it. He sped through the city and countryside twice more, and he almost started a fourth lap before he realized he was done.

The adrenaline still not quite out of his system yet, Fawful backed up a bit so that he could see the time he had clocked. The total time he had spent on the course was 2:55.776. “That has looking of goodness considering I am not ever driving before,” Fawful said to himself.

“Not bad, bean nerd,” Mimi giggled. “Not bad at all considering you lost your ‘shrooms.”

“You are speaking of what?” Fawful asked. “The mushrooms are being right...” He reached where his stash of mushrooms had been kept, but found nothing. “But they had being right here...?” That’s when he remembered what happened early on in his run. “The _car_...” He rested his forehead on the steering wheel in shame. “The crumbs from the donut of deliciousness that were my mushrooms were brushed off my success plate by that car that was stupid...”

Mimi grimaced at this statement. “I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean,” she admitted, “but I guess you lost ‘em when the car ran you over?”

“That is what I had the saying,” Fawful said. “Why was it not giving me death, though? Or at least have hurting my face?”

“I think they said something about the karts protecting us from actually suffering any real injuries,” Mimi said. “Don’t quote me on that, though, I wasn’t entirely paying attention.”

“I am guessing that has the making of senses,” Fawful said.

“Either way, about the time, don’t sweat it,” Mimi said. “It’s a little better than mine at the very least, and I’m pretty sure we get multiple tries on this before they announce the actual racers. At least I saw that prince guy running one of the other tracks multiple times, so if he gets to do it more than once we all do.”

Fawful growled a bit. “Stupid prince of silly peas.”

Mimi giggled, nodding. “Yeah, he does look kinda stupid,” she said. A puff of purple smoke surrounded Mimi, and when it cleared, to Fawful’s surprise she had been replaced by the Beanish prince! “Oh, look at me, I’m a _prince_ , watch me _sparkle_ , I’m _important!_ ” “Peasley” boasted, “his” voice sounding a bit off as though it were just a young woman putting on her best impression of a guy. “He” then laughed at the silliness of the situation, then the purple smoke reappeared and Mimi was back as she was, still laughing.

“How are you doing that?” Fawful asked, awestruck.

“It’s just something I’ve always been able to do,” Mimi said, as if changing into a completely different person at will was as mundane a talent as rolling your tongue or wiggling your ears. “Oh! I just realized, we’ve been talking all this time and I haven’t even properly introduced myself yet!” She held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Mimi. You?”

“Fawful,” he said, shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet ya, Fawful!” Mimi said cheerily. “Y’know, I think we’re gonna get along great!” Well, that was refreshing after everyone either being openly opposed to his presence or walking on eggshells around him. If anyone had told her of Fawful’s reputation, she clearly didn’t care. After letting go of his hand, Mimi approached her bike and leapt on, revving it a couple times just for show (which wasn’t much of a show, given the cute nature of the model). “Well, I’ve got a track to ride,” she said. “See ya later, Fawful! Maybe I’ll show off my power a bit more next time!” With that, she drove off.

Fawful decided to leave the track for now. If he were to try to better his time on Moonview Highway, he wanted to study how his first time had been, and he also didn’t think it very appropriate to try while there was someone else on the track. Hopefully there were video recordings kept of the time trials.

He decided that instead of just walking, he would drive his kart back to the warp to the castle courtyard. He recalled seeing some full-built vehicles in the temporary garage complex, so he figured it was allowed. Now that the rush of the time trial was over, he realized it still felt a bit odd driving a proper vehicle instead of piloting his own headgear or some large mechanical thing of his own creation. As he drove his kart through the teleporter, he could make out a vague shape from the other side. Once he was all the way through, however, he learned exactly what that shape had been: a person, Beanish, who was neither Peasley nor Fawful and thus had no real reason to be in the garage complex. The person was wearing a gray hooded cloak with a long red scarf wrapped around their neck. “Oh my god!” Edame squealed. “It really is you! I thought they were joking!”

“Excusing me?” Fawful asked, confused. Then he remembered. “Oh, you are being the one I had running into the day of yester!”

“Edame, yes!” the scarfed bean said proudly. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you bothered to remember me. I can’t believe that you’re here! That I’m meeting you! _Fawful!_ ”

“I..am having the fans?” Fawful’s trademark grin widened with glee and he laughed. “Of coursing I am having the fans, that is a question of silliness.”

Edame nodded fervently. “I’ve read up on what you and the witch Cackletta did twelve years ago! Brilliant displays of both magic and science! Simply amazing!” Their eyes shifted about, noting the various other racers present. “Of course, the actions committed with said magic and science aren’t ones that should be praised, but that doesn’t make them any less genius!”

Twelve years? It was still hard for Fawful to believe it had been that long, but for once he really didn’t care about his missing time. He was being praised for his accomplishments, and that was more important to him than the potential sore spot. “I have flattery,” Fawful said proudly.

“You’ve gotta show me whatever cool stuff Cackletta taught you sometime!” Edame exclaimed. “I bet she passed down all her magical secrets to you!”

Fawful’s grin faltered. Despite his former master’s best efforts, he had never really been able to get the hang of much magic. However, before he could explain this, two staff Lakitus floated up to Edame with stern looks on their slightly aged faces. “All right, youngster, you know the rules,” one of them said. “No one but racers and race staff allowed at the garage.”

“Aah, s-sorry!” Edame said. “I’ll go now, I swear.” They turned to leave, but before doing so, they waved at Fawful and exclaimed, “Good luck, Fawful! I know you’ll do great!”

Fawful waved back, more out of an awkward social obligation than any sense of real friendliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date August 5, 2016)


	4. Chucklehuck Woods

Fawful made his way to one of the garage stations where he could check out his vehicle a bit more thoroughly. He didn’t think that anyone would mind if he gave his vehicle a bit of a, well, _extra_ tune-up. Just because it wasn’t _technically_ authorized didn’t mean it was a _completely_ illegal maneuver. As he opened up the engine compartment and prepared to take a look inside, he realized that he could feel someone’s eyes on him. He turned, noticing Link there. “Can I be helping you?” Fawful asked, slightly annoyed. He hated being watched while he worked.

Link stepped back in embarrassment “Sorry, I just wanted to watch you...do whatever it is you were going to do,” he said.

Fawful glared at Link through his thick lenses. “Please do not have the watching,” he told him, “it gives distraction.”

“Ah, right, of course,” Link laughed nervously. He paused for a bit, then continued with more small talk. “...It’s really amazing how these things work,” he said. “When I first came onto these races, I couldn’t believe they’d actually crammed so many horses into that small compartment!”

“That is being a metaphor of equivalency,” Fawful said, rolling his eyes.

“Haha, yeah, I figured that out pretty quick,” Link admitted. “Mine looks like a horse, though. It’s a nice touch.”

Fawful didn’t reply, choosing to merely study the inner workings of his vehicle. He couldn’t yet figure out which of the wires and gears connected onto the engine were connected to the antigravity generators he had been told about, and as Moonview Highway had no antigravity sections he didn’t have a frame of reference for how the antigravity kicked in to begin with, much less where to start making his guesses. Obviously he wasn’t going to make any changes until he knew exactly what did what.

“Soooo...what are you doing?” Link asked.

“I am not having sureness,” Fawful replied. “It is being a salad of confusion at the moment that is now.” He sighed. “I will have the inspection with more closeness when there is more understanding of this... _this._ ” He motioned toward the tires, trying to convey the idea of the antigravity properties without having to figure out the proper manner of explaining it to someone who only recently figured out the metaphorical meaning of the term “horsepower”.

“Well, while you’re mulling that over, I know of some people who want to introduce themselves to you,” Link said. “You wanna come say hi?”

Fawful shrugged. “I am seeing no reason for argument.”

Link and Fawful made their way over to a group of people in the middle of the courtyard. Fawful saw that Mimi and Peasley were there as well. Peasley gave him a glare, but due to the rule against overt displays of animosity that was as far as he went, even with Fawful making a rude face in response. “So, everyone, you remember we all wanted to meet the new racers,” Link said happily. “I just got the last of them over, so now we can begin the introductions.”

Peasley cleared his throat. “Well, I appreciate the sentiment, I really do, but I have some track time scheduled that I must attend to,” he said quickly, as though he were trying to avoid a certain member of the group. “I’ll be seeing you all later.” And with that, he left.

“He just keeps getting ruder and ruder every time,” Mimi scoffed.

“I am thinking it is just the presence of fury with me,” Fawful admitted. Not that he didn’t share the feeling, of course.

Link laughed nervously. “Anyway...” He glanced over at Mimi and Fawful, then turned his gaze to the other racers gathered. “So, who wants to go first?” he asked.

Two young people approach Fawful and Mimi, one a girl with pink hair tied in a ponytail and the other a boy with messy auburn hair. “Hello, my name’s Annie Cross, mayor of New Leaf Village,” the girl said, shaking both Fawful and Mimi’s hand. “This is my brother Mel.”

The boy, Mell, simply gave them a friendly wave. “Nice to meetcha,” he said.

Mimi smiled. “Nice to meet you, too!”

“Yes, the meeting does have niceness,” Fawful said, though his seemed more like he was just trying to get this whole thing over with.

“And this...” Annie pulled over an anthropomorphic dog with fluffy blonde fur, some of which was pulled into a ponytail on her head, who was dressed in mostly green business attire. “...is Isabelle! She’s pretty much my vice mayor in all but official title.” She turned to Isabelle and smiled. “Seriously, you’ve done too much for me and the town to just be my ‘secretary’.”

Isabelle blushed through the white fur on her muzzle. “Miss Mayor, stop it!” she exclaimed. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“It’s true and you know it,” Annie insisted.

“It’s great meeting you all!” Mimi said. She then noticed Fawful hadn’t moved since Isabelle’s introduction. “...you okay?”

Fawful had gone a bit pale upon seeing Isabelle. He started to shake a bit, and he let out a pathetic, barely audible whining. “What’s wrong?” Isabelle asked. She tried to approach Fawful, but as soon as she stepped toward him he bolted behind the tallest person of the group. That person happened to be Link.

“Uh, why are you hiding behind me?” Link asked. He tried moving, but it was difficult with Fawful keeping himself behind him with every step he tried to take.

Fawful tried to speak, but his words were lost in an uncharacteristically unnerved stuttering. As if the issue weren’t abundantly clear, a familiar Italian-accented voice in the distance then tauntingly called out, “ _Fawful’s scared of dogs!_ ”

Fawful, still very wary of Isabelle and now slightly embarrassed that his not-so-secret fear had been stated flat-out, backed away from the group. “I...I am needing to go!” He ran back to the garage in his best efforts to not look like he was panicking.

\-----

The only reasonable excuse Fawful could think of for leaving was trying out one of the other three tracks. He chose what would have been second in the upcoming lineup, a track that was a little closer to home.

While Fawful had never personally been to the Chucklehuck Woods until now, he had long known of its reputation within the Beanbean Kingdom. Specifically, he knew it as being home to Chateau de Chucklehuck, and the supposed legendarily superb beverages that were crafted within from the locally grown fruit. Even the air smelled like the famous fruit, although the scent of fruit was punctuated by the faint hint of something...else. What was it? Ozone? Chlorine? Either way, it wasn’t something produced by nature, and Fawful guessed the source of the smell once he caught sight of the anti-gravity generators that the race committee had installed throughout portions of the track.

Almost as soon as Fawful had gotten his car to the starting line near the chateau, a sleek car sped past him, and would have nearly hit him if he hadn’t been careful. “Hey, fink-rat! Be watching where you are going!” he shouted at the other driver, shaking his fist in anger.

The other car stopped, and Fawful could see from the tell-tale sparkle off that infuriatingly familiar blonde hair that Peasley was indeed its driver. The Beanish prince turned to face him, and upon meeting his gaze he glared. “Oh, it’s _you,_ ” Peasley scoffed.

“Prince of peas and hair that looks stupid,” Fawful said. Peasley looked offended at the statement about his hair, which suited Fawful just fine.

“Listen, you,” Peasley said darkly. “The only reason I’m not putting you behind bars right now is because I don’t particularly feel like being disqualified from the race for any reason other than the other racers’ skill. Once the tournament is over, you can bet that my first act will be to make sure you are incarcerated as you should be. Do I make myself clear?”

“You are having the clearness of crystal,” Fawful said. He had been thrown a bit off-guard by Peasley’s statement, perhaps assuming he would at least pretend to tolerate him and not make outward threats like this, but at the same time it wasn’t something he didn’t expect at some point. Either way, he wasn’t going to let the Beanish prince see the effect that had had on him. Peasley turned away and then drove off, presumably back to the teleporter.

Well, now that Peasley was gone, Fawful was confident to begin his own trial of the track. He rolled his vehicle right up to the starting line and set off. The early part of the track was a long, winding road through the woods. A few Pestnuts fell off of a tree as he passed, but he paid them no mind as they didn’t seem to mind him either. He noticed the ozone smell growing stronger, and then he saw it: the first anti-gravity generator, right before the forest’s guardian Chuckleroot. Thinking quickly, Fawful shoved one of his three mushrooms into the car’s exhaust and shot forward in a considerable boost of speed through the generator, the wheels adjusting to compensate for the track now sending him up the wall of a cliff behind the old tree.

Fawful kept driving along the wall until the anti-gravity section ended near a sort of hedge maze. The track then bridged over the hedges and entered into a cavernous area with a waterfall in the distance, passing by an odd plant he was unfamiliar with that seemed to have a violet lump beginning to grow from it. Exiting the cavern, Fawful hit a second anti-gravity spot, which ended up turning him completely upside-down. The view of driving “under” the right-side-up chateau while technically sailing over it was disorienting, but it soon ended and returned to normal gravity as the finish line approached. Two more laps of this went by, with Fawful having access to his mushrooms the whole time until he had used his remaining two at different points to gauge the best strategic locations for speed boosts.

Upon finishing his final lap, Fawful checked his time. Two minutes and roughly 30 seconds. Definitely a bit better than the time he had clocked on Moonview Highway, though whether that was due to his driving skill improving or the track being a little easier than Moonview Highway he couldn’t objectively tell. It also could’ve just been that he had manage to hold onto at least one mushroom this time. He then noticed that there was a tab to see everyone’s times for each track. Curious, he checked the tab and looked for Peasley’s. There it was, just under his own.

Two minutes and roughly thirty-five seconds.

Fawful’s usual cheeky grin grew even wider than normal. He was beating out Peasley! On this track, at least. He hadn’t checked what their comparative times were on the only other track he’d been on, but the one victory was enough to satisfy his pettiness for now. He made his way back to the teleporter, passing Waluigi (who had just recently arrived to track his own time) and singing to himself gleefully. “ _These are all things we let babies do, effing babies..._ ” he sang. “ _Baby deeaaath..._ ”

Waluigi made an odd face as he watched Fawful leave. “Who thought it was a good idea to invite that weirdo?” he finally said to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date October 13, 2016)


	5. Maka Wuhu Hooniversity

When Fawful returned to the garage, the sun was starting to set. He was starting to feel a bit tired, not to mention his legs were slightly cramped from having spent so much time from both the Moonview Highway and Chucklehuck Woods time trials combined sitting in a cramped kart with hardly any leg room. He got out of his kart, stretched his legs, and made his way to the hotel. As he entered the hotel and called the elevator, he caught the hint of raucous laughter from a room nearby. Despite the elevator having arrived, he made his way over to the source of the sound: a small lounge room. He could hear the voices of some of the older racers coming from within, jovial and laughing together.

“All right, two really good ones left here,” a gruff voice that Fawful recognized as Bowser said. “So which of these is the crustiest, ‘the blood of my enemies’ or ‘elderly Japanese men’?” There were some extra giggles as he said this. “Well, generally speaking, I’ve found the blood of my enemies seems to always go down smooth...” Fawful was taken aback by this statement as he didn’t think Bowser was _that_ kind of baddie, but when the group within began to laugh in a joking, clearly-not-crazy manner, he assumed that he had not been making a serious statement.

“So which is really the crustiest?” the voice of Luigi asked between chuckles.

“I thought I made it obvious,” Bowser said with a laugh. “I’m going with ‘elderly Japanese man’.”

“Yes!” a nasally, high-pitched voice exclaimed. “I’m finally on the board!”

“That was you, Yoshi?” the voice of Mario asked in mild surprise. “You usually go for the more innocent cards.”

“Can’t fail with ‘elderly Japanese men’,” the unknown voice insisted.

“Wait, so then who played ‘a big ol’ bowl of fruit’ this time?”

His curiosity was getting the better of him. Fawful knocked on the door and a woman’s voice beckoned him inside. He entered and saw the Mario Bros., Bowser, Wario, Waluigi, a green dinosaur-like creature that was presumably Yoshi, and all of the adult princesses sat around a table holding cards. Various black and white cards were on the table before them. He gave a bit of a nervous wave and smiled. “Greetings to you,” he said. “I have apologies for the dropping of eaves...”

“It’s quite all right, Fawful,” Princess Peach said. “We were just playing a quick game to wind down before bed.”

“What is being the game?” Fawful asked, approaching the group and their table with interest piqued.

“Cards Against Decent Sensibility,” Mario said. “It’s like Apples to Apples, except not for kids.” He shook his head. “Not for kids in the slightest.”

“Fawful is not being a kid,” Fawful said. “Can I have joining?”

“We’re in the middle of a game,” Wario said, his large finger shoved up his equally large nostril. “We can’t just have some rando shove himself in, so get outta here!”

“Didn’t _you_ guys shove yourselves in?” Yoshi asked.

“That was at the beginning!” Waluigi protested.

“Oh, hush, you two,” the woman dressed in blue, the same one who had beckoned Fawful to join them in the lounge room in the first place, chided the Mario Bros.’ odd-looking doppelgangers. “There’s no harm in allowing him to stay if he wants, even if it’s just to watch.”

“Sorry, Rosalina...”

“Anyway, guys, I’m the Card Czar now!” Daisy exclaimed. She drew a card from the black pile and made an annoyed face. “Oh, come on! That’s just rude.”

“It’s Cards Against Decent Sensibility,” Rosalina said coolly. “Did you really expect anything else?”

Daisy rolled her eyes and placed the black card down onto the table. It read ‘ _What did I bring back from Sarasaland?_ ’ “Oh yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t like that one,” Luigi said.

“Burn round for me,” Yoshi said, nonchalantly placing a white card face down beside the black card. The other players put their cards on top of Yoshi’s, muttering either declarations of confidence or concern that their pick was not as good as it could be.

Daisy picked up the pile of white cards and shuffled them, then flipped them rightside-up and read them all. “All right, what’d you guys bring back from visiting me?” she asked with a groan. “Puppies, that’s a nice one... the unbelievable world of mushrooms, yeah right... Lady Gaga, I wasn’t a fan in the first place... that one time Luigi was associated with urine...” (“Okay, who the hell wrote that in!” Luigi shouted.) “Some kind of bird man, probably... a tiny Lil Oink wearing a raincoat and booties, that would actually be lovely... Grandma... and...” Her face soured considerably when she read the last card. “Who’s behind _this_ one?” She held up the white card reading ‘ _an endless stream of diarrhea_ ’. Of course, no one said anything, but several of the players tried to hide their laughter. “Screw it, I’m just gonna pick this one to see who was responsible,” Daisy sighed.

Peach then reached over and took the black card. “Thank you very much,” she said proudly.

“Really?” Daisy groaned.

“It may or may not be based on truth,” Peach said with a nervous giggle.

The game continued along the same way for the next hour and a half, with the cards bringing up raunchier combinations throughout. Afterwards, everyone present went back to their rooms, including Fawful. Once entering his room, he found Iggy already asleep. He decided to follow his roommate’s lead, collapsing onto the bed.

\-----

Fawful woke up before the sun had even risen. Nothing unusual for him, as he had a very irregular sleep schedule. In fact, it was more unusual that he had slept for so long considering when he went to bed in the first place. He looked over to the bed beside him and saw Iggy was still asleep. Not being able to go back to sleep himself, both due to his own restfulness and Iggy’s obnoxious lumber mill snores, Fawful got out of bed, got ready for the day, and quietly left the room without disturbing his sleeping roommate. He made his way downstairs and headed to the garage.

Now that Fawful had experienced the way the anti-gravity functions worked, he was confident that he would be able to tinker with his vehicle without destroying any vital components. He found his kart with ease and opened it up, easily locating the part responsible for the anti-gravity function. “I will not have messing with that yet,” he said to himself. Carefully avoiding that particular part, Fawful set to work giving his vehicle a few little boosts and touch-ups. He then heard something that made him pause. Footsteps. Someone else was there, when he had been certain he was the only at the garage at the time, at least the only one who walked on the ground rather than levitated on a cloud. “Who is that being?” he asked. No response. Either they didn’t hear him, they were trying not to be noticed, or he had imagined hearing the footsteps in the first place, and he was highly doubtful of having imagined such a distinct sound.

Cautiously, Fawful approached the sound, pulling an old handmade ray gun out of a pocket in his cape. He wasn’t sure if it still worked, but if luck was on his side he either wouldn’t need it or would only need it for intimidation. He turned a corner and found the source of the sound. It was a Beanish man wearing a purple striped shirt and an odd hat, sneaking around and shuffling through the crates of items that were to be used during the main races. The man was holding an empty sack, which he started to fill with the contents of the crate he had just opened. One by one, power stars plopped into the man’s sack as he laughed to himself. “Popple, you evil genius, you,” the man said as he continued to gather stars. “This is probably your best score yet!”

Fawful closed in on Popple, who didn’t even seem to hear him approach as he picked up a crowbar and opened the nearby crate of golden mushrooms. Just as the thief began to put the golden mushrooms into his sack, Fawful placed the business end of his ray gun at his back. “And what are you thinking you have taking from there?” he asked threateningly.

Popple let out a yelp, dropping one of the golden mushrooms onto the ground. He turned around and threw his hands into the air. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t shoot!” he shouted. “I’m just tryin’ ta make a dishonest livin’ here!”

“I will have needing of those things later,” Fawful said coolly. “Be putting them back, please and thanking to you.”

“Fat chance of that,” Popple said with a sneer. “These things are gonna make me a fortune. So just chill out and buzz off!”

Fawful let a nasty grin spread across his face. “I am thinking it is you who will be needing to chill,” he said. He then fired the ray gun for the first time in six years, and a beam of frigid cold shot out and hit Popple, solidifying him. Satisfied, he twirled the ray gun around in his hand and put it away. “I am still having it,” he laughed to himself, leaving the frozen would-be thief to be discovered by the others once they arrived.

\-----

A few hours later, Fawful’s modifications were complete. He entered the teleporter to the next track, Maka Wuhu, and once on the other side he had to squint his eyes to avoid being blinded by the harsh sunlight. It appeared this next track was on a beach, or at least its starting line was, and the variant racing logos on nearby banners signified that this was yet another reused track. Many strange-looking people were running around on the part of the beach that wasn’t marked by race borders, throwing frisbees to their dogs (the presence of which made Fawful uneasy, but at least they were small) or riding about on segways. One of the people, a young woman with brown hair and glasses, noticed Fawful and gave a friendly wave to him. He gave a nervous wave back, keeping his distance due to the small tan-furred dog bounding its way towards her.

Well, there was no point in putting it off any more, and getting started on the time trial would get him away from all the dogs populating the beach anyway. Fawful drove down the beachside road, making a turn towards the iron red suspension bridge, with trick ramps set up ahead. He hit each ramp in succession, but when he made to hit the boost ramp just past it he missed and instead hit a smart car parked just behind it. “Who is the moron who had thinking to park that there?!” he shouted as he drove past. He would have to remember that for later. Following the car, there were a few dirt mounds with smooth dirt road to the sides of them. Figuring this would be as good an opportunity as any, he shoved one of his mushrooms into the tailpipe and sped around the mounds and onto the smooth road for a bit of a time saver. The road before him forked, but soon remerged as he reached a bridge. Up nest was a curvy road underneath various rock formations, large mud puddles splattered along the sides. He maneuvered around the mud and got through that part fairly easily.

He soon passed through what looked like another starting line set up in the middle of the track, and he presumed that meant he would not be expected to loop this particular track for...whatever reason the committee had come up with. So much for being able to learn from his earlier mistake. Once past the second marker, he followed the road under a waterfall and into the cave beyond it. The path within the cave was littered with sheer drop-offs which he was thankfully able to avoid, as well as a couple of trick ramps that he got some good speed boosts from. The road eventually brought him out of the cave and along a Cliffside, a small lake on the side that did not drop off the side of the mountain. There was a small castle just beyond the lake, and just beyond was a bridge that he decided to use one of his two remaining mushrooms on.

After hitting the second marker, there was a turn on the side of another cliff. As he hit a straight-away, he saw rocks starting to fall down around him. He panicked, nearly spinning out, but was thankfully unhurt. The track sloped downhill after that, hitting a trick ramp and then a large ramp with a booster and mostly empty space thereafter. Once he hit the larger of the ramps he thought he was going to drop, but the back of his kart opened up and out spilled his paraglider, keeping him airborne. So that thing did have a use after all. He descended gracefully, soon touching down on the beach near where the track had begun, and slid into the ending circle that was located in a closed-off water sports arena. Fawful sighed in relief of the track being over, and then he looked at his time. A minute and 59 seconds. He was pleasantly surprised, and while he wasn’t sure if he had been able to figure out the proper way to run the track on his first try or was just getting better at driving in general, but either way he was pretty damn proud of himself.

\-----

Riding high on the adrenaline of Maka Wuhu, Fawful decided to go on ahead to the last track. It was another Beanbean location, one that he very much recognized: Woohoo Hooniversity. It was certainly a lot nicer-looking than the last time he had seen it, though considering he and Cackletta had pretty much trashed the place during that event he wasn’t at all surprised. After all, after hitting rock bottom there’s nowhere to go but up, and daaamn did things go up for the place.

Cool and confident, he pulled up to the starting line and sped through the opening doors of the institution. He whizzed through the front hall and into a room with light beams and mirrors. When it seemed the room would come to a dead end, there was a fork in the path and an anti-gravity generator that sent him up the wall and onto the ceiling. He sped along the ceiling and into what appeared to be a library and soon went back into normal gravity, then the track took a turn into a kind of access tunnel which led to what was now the underground labs. Fawful recognized it for something else, though: it had been part of the location where he and Cackletta had tried to awaken the Beanstar so many years ago. It appeared to still be under some maintenance, or else the university staff just liked the aesthetic of it, as it had remained largely unchanged after all those years.

The time for reminiscing would have to be cut short. A large vent in the center of the main lab, which appeared to have been set up specifically for the race, thrust him and his kart up through the floors and into the skies above. His kart suddenly shifted upside-down again as a road with another anti-gravity generator had been constructed in midair, and it gradually curled around until he was riding on it rightside-up. The midair road ended in a ramp, and upon hitting the paraglider was deployed and he glided down to the starting line.

He had completed a second lap and was just about halfway through his third when he heard something in the underground lab. The sound was faint, but it was there; a strange, robotic laughing that was deep and slowed down like one of those vintage talking baby dolls that was losing power in its batteries. He swerved and spun out, nearly crashing into a wall. Fawful was extremely confused, but started back up and kept going. What was that? Was it intended as part of the track, something that only kicked in at the last lap to trip people up? Maybe, but he would have to check it out later.

Fawful finished his final lap and checked his time, his face falling in disappointment. Three minutes and two seconds. It was definitely his worst time thus far, and he had his suspicions as to what exactly made him take longer. He got out of his kart and entered the building on foot, brushing past the occasional scientist or staffer he encountered. Soon enough, he had reached the lab where he had heard the sound and began to investigate. The sound grew louder as he got closer and he eventually found its source: the head, shoulders, and arm of an aged robot designed to look like Princess Peach. It would have sounded like her as well if the Peach they had stolen the voice of hadn’t been an imposter, but even now its audio would have suffered the admittedly unnerving effects of the old and worn speaker. How this thing could’ve survived the Hooniversity’s reconstruction, he had no idea.

He gingerly picked up the robotic remains by the head and examined it. It let out a distorted attempt at menacing laughter, and its reminder of past failures enraged him. “You will not be looking at me with that face of stupid!” he shouted, shortly before reeling his arm back and flinging the laughing piece of trash against the wall, shattering its weakened form into bits.

\-----

Several days and many repeated trials of the racetracks later, it was time to announce who had been pushed through to the final group of racers. Fawful was a bit nervous of what the results would be, a feeling that he wasn’t used to and didn’t care for at all. Even though he had improved his times across the board, his mind kept going back to his...lackluster performance on the Hooniversity racetrack; despite retrying his trial for that track several times, he still couldn’t un-see the remains of the robotic Peach head and refrain from becoming distracted. “All right, everyone!” the Lakitu handling the proceedings announced. “We’ve averaged out your best times for each track, and we’re ready to reveal who will be racing in this Grand Prix!” The racers cheered, eagerly anticipating the announcement with hope that they would each be one of the twelve chosen.

“The first of our twelve racers are...Mario!”

“No surprise there,” Luigi said with a smile as his brother stepped out of the crowd and onto the stage. “Way to go, bro!”

“Our second racer is...Luigi!” Luigi excitedly joined his brother onstage, receiving a pat on the back and a thumbs-up. “Our third racer is...Isabelle!” Isabelle squealed in delight and went upstage as well.

Soon enough, the three named racers were joined by Daisy, Mimi, Bowser, Wario, Link, Peach, Yoshi, and Waluigi. Fawful crossed his fingers and gritted his teeth. He accidentally caught Peasley’s gaze, the prince responding with a confident smirk. “And our twelfth and final racer is...” The pause for suspense was almost unbearable, until the Lakitu finally announced, “Fawful!”

Fawful gasped. He couldn’t believe it. Even with his improvements, he had believed the Hooniversity screw-up had left him dead in the water, yet still here he was. He ran onto the stage to join his fellow racers, laughing giddily all the way.

“Congrats, Fawful!” Mimi exclaimed. “I knew you’d make it!”

Those who weren’t chosen to be part of the roster applauded nonetheless, except for Peasley, who stormed off in a rare show of anger and disappointment. Fawful didn’t care. People were happy for him, genuinely congratulating his accomplishments without having been previously manipulated in some way. The fact that they were also doing so for the others who had accomplished the same thing did nothing to dull this feeling. This was something he hadn’t felt in several years.

\-----

Later that night, a party was being held in the hotel’s restaurant and bar. Whether or not they had gotten into the final roster, all of the racing candidates (save, of course, for the miffed Peasley) were present, dining on delicious food and once again congratulating those who had made through. Wario, in an extremely rare moment of generosity, even offered to buy a round of drinks for everyone that was of-age, the children and babies having already been sated with juice boxes and sodas. “And what’ll you be having, Miss Isabelle?” he asked, an uncharacteristic politeness to his words possibly brought on by his own drink.

“None for me, thanks,” Isabelle said sheepishly. “Pretty sure it’d kill me.”

Wario shrugged as if to say “fair enough”, then made his way over to where Fawful and Mimi were sitting. Mimi was happily sipping away at her drink, while Fawful just stared at his identical one, which remained untouched. “What’s the matter, Beanie?” Wario joked. “Pre-tournament jitters got ya?”

“I am lacking in the jitters, thanks,” Fawful said. “I just...do not have sureness in how to be going about this...monstrosity of cream and bad judgement juice.”

“If you don’t drink, you shoulda said something!” Wario huffed. “Save me the coin.”

“There’s not really all that much alcohol in this,” Mimi reassured him. “Only enough for them to card you, not much to mess with your head.” She grabbed a straw for him and smiled. “Why don’t you just try a little bit of it? If you don’t like it, I’ll finish it for you.”

Fawful considered it briefly, then picked up the decorative bottle his drink had been served in and gave it a tentative sip. He then proceeded to down the whole thing in just a few gulps, slamming the bottle back onto the bar and gleefully licking the newly formed cream mustache from his upper lip. “It is being a beacon of deliciousness!” Fawful exclaimed. “I have desire for more!”

“I only offered to pay for the first round,” Wario said with a sneer. But Fawful actually happened to have some cash on hand, at least enough to order another drink, so his desire for more was answered as soon as the bartender was able. He downed his next drink almost as quickly as the first, mostly due to the fact that ice cream was mixed in and thus made it cold.

The party went on for a little while longer, but it soon had to come to a close. The actual tournament proper would start the next evening, and the participants would need their rest. As Fawful left the restaurant, he noticed he was feeling a bit off but he didn’t care. After all, it was his first time consuming anything alcoholic, and despite his two orders’ alcohol supposedly being rather low his tolerance for the stuff would be low as well. He started to make his way to the elevator, but then he wondered if maybe he should give his kart a quick once-over. Contrary to what he had said in the restaurant, he did have a touch of pre-tournament jitters.

Fawful turned away from the elevator and stumbled a bit toward the front door. He caught himself before he fell, giggling at his own slight inebriation, and exited the hotel on slightly unsteady legs. As he turned to head to the garage, he heard something from the darkness behind him. He froze. Something about this sound wasn’t right. “H-hello?” he asked cautiously. “Is someone being there?”

No response. Fawful was just about to forget about it and continue on his way to check his kart when suddenly something long and flexible shot out of the darkness, wrapping itself around his arm. “Have letting me go!” he shouted, but whoever was grabbing him just wrapped another long arm around his midsection. Fawful flailed his legs about as he tried to get away, but to no avail. Something was sprayed in his face, a cloud of violet smoke that had a sickly sweet, chemical smell that was somehow all too familiar to his senses.

The last thing Fawful saw before his eyes forced themselves closed and he lost consciousness was the extremely pale arm holding onto him and the heart-shaped tattoo emblazoned with “MOM”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date November 8, 2016)


	6. Catch and Release

Fawful’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the darkness of the room he was currently in. He had a splitting headache, and there was a strange tightness around his chest and arms. He sat up and tried to put his hand to his head, but he found that he couldn’t even move his arms at all. Looking down, he learned what that strange tight feeling was: his arms had been bound with duct tape.

He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he heard a muffled shout from behind the wall of whatever room he was in, followed by another muffled voice and approaching footsteps. The door to the room swung open, the light outside nearly blinding Fawful due to his eyes having adjusted to the dark. When he was able to open his eyes more than a squint, he found this to be nearly useless as he was no longer wearing his glasses. Despite the blurriness, he could make out the shape of someone thin, dressed in grey and red, with a green smudge where their head would be. Behind the shape came another, much larger shape that Fawful could only interpret as a squid wearing shoes, as strange as that sounded. The thin figure approached him and leaned in, allowing his terrible eyes to finally take in the details that revealed the figure’s identity. “Hope you’re not too uncomfortable in there,” Edame said in an eerily sweet tone.

“You are being Edame,” Fawful said angrily, his voice sounding oddly distant.

“Aww, you bothered to remember me again,” Edame said with a laugh. “I’m honored, really. Oh, I do wish we could’ve met up in better circumstances. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but I really am a big fan.”

“What is the on-going?” Fawful asked. “What is being this location? And who is being the person behind you that is fat?”

“Could you make _any_ of that out?” the large figure asked. “All I got was that he tried to insult me.”

“Every word,” Edame said. “To answer your questions, we’re in my house. Specifically, you’re in my storage closet. So sorry about all this, but the powers that be have led me to...well, I had to kidnap you. I can’t explain why just yet, but soon, very soon. It’s not like I plan on keeping you in my storage closet forever, after all, that would be just cruel. Let’s just say someone needs you for reasons. As for my friend...” They motioned toward the large figure behind them. “This is Callum. And he’s not fat. Just large.”

“Thanks for that,” Callum said, crossing his tentacles in front of him. Even in the harsh lighting contrast between the storage closet and the room beyond its door, Fawful could see a color blob similar to the mom-heart tattoo that had been on the arm that had grabbed him.

“Anyway,” Edame said, “I’m surprised someone of your intelligence has yet to ask one of the most obvious questions.”

“And that is being?”

“Why isn’t your voice coming out of your actual mouth?” Edame smirked and pulled a small jar out of their coat pocket filled with a viscous violet liquid. They shook the jar, causing the liquid within to swirl, shimmer, and _scream_. It was a very faint scream, but it was still audible. What disturbed Fawful the most was that the scream from the liquid was in his own voice.

“But...how is...?” For once, Fawful was at a loss for words, and it wasn’t just because his voice had literally been removed. At least he knew he hadn’t been imagining it when he thought he recognized the smell of the chemical that had been used to knock him out.

“I told you that day at the garage, didn’t I?” Edame chuckled. “I did a lot of reading up on you and your former mistress. Initially it was just out of admiration—yes, the admiration was indeed genuine—but eventually I knew I would have to use the information I learned, including the formula and methodology you used to steal the Mushroom Kingdom princess’s voice so many years ago. I figured I’d try to replicate it, and what do you know? It worked like a charm!” They placed the jar back into their pocket. “Good thing, too. It’ll make impersonating you just that bit much easier.”

“I-impersonating?!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that,” Edame said. “Part of my plan involves impersonating you and getting you kicked out of the races. That way no one will be suspicious when you’re gone for days.” They smiled. “By the way, even though I took your voice and everything, I don’t think it’d sit well hearing your yelling from this jar in my pocket, soooo...” Then they removed something from their other pocket: a roll of duct tape, presumably the same one used to bind him. “Sorry, but it’s quiet time.”

“I am thinking not!” Fawful shouted. He leapt to his feet and tried to ram into Edame, but was knocked back to the floor by Callum punching him in the face with one of his beefy tentacles. The punch left him with a pretty bad black eye.

With Fawful once again incapacitated, Edame calmly and quickly placed a strip of duct tape over his mouth. He let out a muffled groan, wincing from the stinging pain in his eye. “Again, I’m really sorry about this,” Edame said, gently patting Fawful’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to be in here for long.” Edame and Callum exited the closet, closing the door behind them.

_You have a damning rightness about that,_ Fawful thought. He struck the heel of his boot against the floor, popping the sole open and revealing a small blade hidden within, something he had originally rigged up for self-defense before he realized he was not cut out for the sort of martial arts that would be required to use it. Praying that he was still as flexible as he was back in his days as a badge trader, he adjusted himself into a relatively horizontal position and bent backwards, uncomfortably so. Slowly and carefully, he lifted his leg up to where the duct tape was and began to slice at it, taking extra precautions to not slice open his arms or back by mistake. One by one, the tape strips split apart, loosening the pressure around his chest as they did so. Once the last of the tape had been cut, he straightened himself and peeled it off of his front, and carefully did the same with the tape on his mouth.

His arms now freed, Fawful then had to figure out how he was going to get out of the storage closet without being seen. He looked around, noting the shelving that reached above the door, and realized he might not have to worry about whether or not he would be seen at all if he played his admittedly tiny hand of cards right. He climbed onto the shelf closest to the door, careful not to make any noise. Once he was on top of the shelf, he crouched into a position primed to drop and shouted as loud as he could. The fact that his voice and his ears were separated by a wall did very little to dampen the declaration of “HEY! Hole of the ass!” and the shuffling footsteps that followed. The door burst open and Edame and Callum stepped in, understandably confused.

“Where the hell’d did he go?!” Callum asked, frustrated. “He was definitely in this closet, right?!”

“I don’t _have_ any other closets,” Edame said, picking up the crinkled remnant of Fawful’s bonds. “And there’s no other entrances. He’s gotta be in here somewhere.” Edame searched the corners of the room, just as Callum was doing, then they quickly looked up.

And that was the moment he chose to drop.

Fawful landed right on top of Callum with a loud yell, and though he wasn’t very gifted with any other physical strength than an abnormal level of flexibility, having anything that’s roughly the size and shape of a person fall on you is startling enough without that thing also screaming incoherently. “Augh!” Callum shouted. “Get offa me!” He flailed about in a panic, knocking Fawful off of his back and causing him to fall onto Edame next.

Quickly, Fawful rolled off of the smaller of his captors and sprinted out of the storage closet. He spotted a red shape hanging on the wall nearby, and recognizing it as his cape he grabbed it and put it back on. His glasses were conveniently placed on a small table beside what he now recognized as a coatrack, so he grabbed those as well. Fawful laughed and exclaimed, “I say to you farewell!” before running out the door.

By the time Callum had helped Edame to their feet, their captive was already long gone. “Let’s go!” Edame shouted. “We can’t afford to let him get away!”

\-----

The racers had all gathered at the starting line of Moonview Highway. All of them, that is, aside for one. “Where’s Fawful?” Mimi asked, staring at the single unattended kart sitting in the twelfth starting spot.

“I have no idea,” Luigi said. “Haven’t seen him since the party last night.”

“Maybe he missed his alarm or something?” Isabelle suggested. “I hope he doesn’t get confused by his kart already being here instead of the garage...”

“I’m gonna go look for him,” Mimi said. She hopped off her bike and made her way to the teleporter.

“Don’t take too long, the race is about to start!” Luigi called after her. Mimi gave him a thumbs-up and headed through.

As she searched around the garage complex, Mimi called out to the missing racer. “Fawfuuuuulll!” she shouted. “Fawful, where are you? What’s keeping you?” Surely he would’ve responded if he were there, but she neither heard nor saw anything. Worried, she figured going out into the castle town to look for him couldn’t hurt. He did seem fairly out of it after the party, maybe he had just passed out somewhere? Either way, she had to find him as soon as possible.

As she turned the corner to go into town, a fast-moving person barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. “Owww...” Mimi moaned, holding her head. “You doofus, watch where you’re going!” She then looked up to see who had run into her and gasped. It was Fawful, also on the ground, panting heavily as he had been running like a maniac for some reason or another. “There you are!” Mimi exclaimed. She got to her feet and moved over to help him up as well. “What’s the big idea?!” she asked. “Why weren’t you at the track?”

Fawful tried to respond, and it was at least half a lengthy sentence into his explanation before he realized he had made a critical error; in his haste to escape, he had forgotten to retrieve his voice. He spat a silent curse for his predicament, then grabbed Mimi’s hand and pulled her along in his rush back to the racetrack. It was too late to get it now anyway, he could race just fine while mute. Besides, if the formula used worked exactly like the final version he had made, his voice would return on its own within a couple of hours.

“Fawful, what’s going on?” Mimi asked as she was led along. “This silent treatment’s not like you at all... Something bad happened to you, didn’t it?”

He didn’t know how he was going to be able to respond. Only one hand free and on the run, he wouldn’t be able to use any hand gestures that would be easily understandable. If they could just get back to the garage, however, they could get the race over with and he could explain everything once he got his hands on a pen and paper. As they got closer, the air before them began to ripple and a wave of energy stopped them from proceeding. Edame appeared before them, shortly followed by a very dizzy-looking Callum. “Oh my god,” Callum moaned, sounding a bit ill and wobbling. “Please, never do that again with me involved.”

“Finally found you,” Edame said darkly, grasping a decorated staff in their hands. “You know, if only you’d stayed put like a good boy, we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”

“I am not wanting to spend my night in a closet full of darkness and bad smells,” Fawful said, glaring at Edame and pulling out his ray gun. The mystery bean apparently still had his voice somewhere on their person, which was good, but he had no idea where it was being kept or how he would get ahold of it.

“Oh, _now_ you’re talking again!” Mimi exclaimed. “Seriously, what’s going on? Who is this person, and why did their teleport feel so...” For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

“It is being a story of much length,” Fawful said. “You will have explanation later.”

Edame chuckled. “Pardon me for getting in the middle of a lover’s quarrel,” they said. “I’m only here for Fawful, so if you could just let me collect him, that would be just lovely.”

“We’re not lovers!” Mimi insisted, and Fawful was silently thankful that it was her who had said what they were both thinking so that he wouldn’t have to. “We’re friends! And you’re not getting my friend!” Friends? Really? Well, either way it was certainly quicker to say than “I met this guy this week and I don’t have any reason to harbor any animosity towards him”.

Edame shook their head, a confident smirk on their face. “Well, miss, I’m afraid we need him a bit more than you do,” they insisted. “Besides, I have something he very much wants anyway.” They took the small jar out of their pocket, the jar containing Fawful’s liquefied voice. “Or I could just throw it away and he could live the rest of his life without the spoken word, it’s fine, he’ll lose part of his charm but it’s not like it’s going to affect my life. I don’t need him for his words, after all.”

“Big whoop!” Mimi said with a laugh. “Whatever that stuff is, we’re not gonna fall for an obviously empty threat!”

“Mimi, no, this whoop is having hugeness and the threat has much truth,” Fawful insisted. While his poker face was unpracticed, he didn’t know how well Edame had studied his notes, and if they didn’t know he would recover on his own he didn’t want them to believe their main bargaining chip was useless. There was also the possibility that they had altered the formula to make it so that removing the voice would be permanent if it wasn’t recovered, though he wasn’t sure whether or not that was just baseless speculation. Either way, he kept his gun trained on Edame, though not daring to fire for fear of destroying the jar and its contents.

Large, red jewels formed in the air beside him. He glanced over and saw Mimi’s eyes glowing with each gem’s appearance. “Didn’t mean to downplay something so important to ya,” Mimi said with a smirk. “Either way, these guys are in our way and we’ve got a race to run! So GET LOST!”

The gems floating around Mimi tilted and then flung themselves toward Edame and Callum. At least half of them were aimed at the Blooper, and he flailed his many limbs about trying to dodge them. Edame deflected the ones that headed their way, but one managed to get through and strike the arm holding Fawful’s voice, causing them to drop it. Panicking, Edame tried to retrieve it, but Fawful was too quick and got to it first. He snatched it up and spun out of the way of Edame’s attempt at hitting him with their staff. “Ha ha, you are having much slowness!” Fawful taunted.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Edame shouted. They turned to Callum, who was still reeling from Mimi’s Rubee assault. “Do something!”

“On it!” Callum charged at Fawful, two of his tentacles balled up like fists. Once again Fawful dodged, then fired his gun at the shoe-wearing Blooper, stunning him.

“All right!” Mimi exclaimed as she slung more Rubees at their attackers. “Way to show ‘em, Fawf!”

“Please do not have calling me names of petting, thank you,” Fawful said. While Edame and Callum had their hands and tentacles full of airborne gemstones, Fawful popped the lid off the jar containing his voice and quickly downed the liquid within. The flavor, as he had remembered from his original testing of the formula, was absolutely bitter masked in sickly sweetness much like discount cough syrup. He shivered in disgust as he felt his throat begin to tingle from his voice’s restoration. “If I am never having to have the experience that is what was just happening, it will be—”

He didn’t get to finish his statement, as out of nowhere a burst of violet and gold sparks fired upon him, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying. Two people gasped in surprise, Mimi out of shock, and its originator Edame being more elated than anything. “I-I actually did it!” they said. “I can’t believe I made it work! I guess he really did give me magic powers!”

“How is that—?!” Mimi began to twitch. She turned to Edame, her demeanor growing very dark. “So, ‘he’ gave you magic, did he?” she asked the staff-wielding Bean in an uncharacteristic cold tone. “Who is this ‘he’?”

“L-like I have to tell you anything!” Edame retorted. They held their staff out, ready to at least attempt firing again. “This never had anything to do with you, girlie! All he wants is something that Fawful has and he gave me the tools to help him, I don’t know the details beyond that, not even a name!”

Mimi’s head suddenly lurched to the side, a sickeningly audible _crack_ filling the air. Edame and Callum watched in horror as her head spun around until it was completely upside-down. Dark, spindly legs sprouted from the sides of her head and lifted her into the air, leaving her lower body dangling limp as her newly formed limbs reacquainted themselves with proper movement. “ ** _Mimimimimimimimimimi!_** ” Mimi giggled menacingly in a hoarse voice.

“Oh, bloop this!” Callum shouted in fright. “No amount of pay is worth dealing with giant spider freaks!” He scurried away as fast as his tentacles could carry him.

“Wait, come back!” Edame screamed, but it was too late. The Blooper was already gone. All they could do now was back up slowly as Mimi’s monstrous form lurched toward them.

Fawful gingerly sat up, rubbing his head from the pain of the impact. He looked around, saw that Mimi had seemingly disappeared, then glanced up and saw the creature looming overhead. It made him experience a mix of fright, intrigue, and awe, mostly the latter two. The beast’s intricate arachnid form was incredible to him, the mix of grotesque organic and subtle mechanical features almost seamlessly weaved within one another. The humanoid headless and armless body hanging from its midsection was morbid, sure, but he continued to watch in amazement as the thing approached Edame and began to launch red gemstones at—wait, red gemstones? No, it couldn’t be... Then again, the outfit the limp body attached to it was wearing did look an awful lot like... “Mimi?” Fawful gasped. “Is that being you?”

Mimi paused at Fawful’s words. She turned slightly toward Fawful, and while his thick glasses partially obscured his expression she could definitely tell he was staring directly at her. “ ** _Oh, this is just great,_** ” she growled.

The brief distraction was enough—Edame fired another burst of magic, hitting Mimi square in the face. She screamed, an awful distorted sound with her altered form, then threw several more Rubees at them. One of the Rubees struck Edame’s staff, snapping it clean in half. “Maybe Callum had a point,” Edame said hesitantly. “This doesn’t seem like a fight worth picking anymore, even for him...” Edame turned and tried to run, but as they did something slipped out from under their scarf; a strange pendant, seemingly just a string wrapped around a dark stone, yet somehow much more. The pendant seemed to exude an immense energy, causing Edame to stop in their tracks. “No...” Edame gasped. “N-no, please...I can’t fight her!”

Edame’s pendant swung about, as if it had been grabbed and let freely drop. All of a sudden, dark energy shot from the pendant’s stone and leapt up the string connecting it to Edame’s neck. They dropped to the ground, writhing and gasping in vain for air, their face paling and turning blue. Fawful’s hand moved before his mind caught up with everything. He aimed his gun at the pendant and fired, the beam shattering the pendant’s stone and releasing its wearer from whatever force had them in its grip. Drawing in a deep breath, Edame shakily got to their feet and ran away. Fawful heard the smoke-puff sound that he recognized from when Mimi had first demonstrated her shapeshifting ability and saw her walk into his field of view. “Well, I guess that’s over with,” Mimi said nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just witnessed someone nearly murdered by their own jewelry half a minute prior. She turned to Fawful. “C’mon, doofus. We’ve got a race to win.” 

\-----

There was only a minute left until the race was to start, and while the two AWOL racers were really cutting it close they were nearly there. They had made it through the teleporter and onto Moonview Highway without much trouble, aside from an uncomfortable sense of avoidance from Mimi. “Mimi, do you have the okay feeling?” Fawful asked cautiously. “You are keeping the silence of discomfort since...”

“Can’t believe I let that slip,” Mimi muttered to herself. “Why’d I have to get so worked up over that stupid bean mage? He’s gonna hate me now, they always do...”

“Do you have the speaking about Fawful?” Fawful asked. “For what reason would I have hatred of you?”

“But you saw my true form!” Mimi squealed. “It’s strong, yeah, but it’s ugly and gross and no one likes it!”

Fawful smiled his trademark smile. “I have liking of it,” he said. “You had such coolness and greatness! Greatness befitting a friend of Fawful!”

“You serious?” Mimi asked as they soon approached the other racers and the starting line. “You’re not just saying that as a cruel joke, are you? Like someone _else_ I knew...”

“I am lacking in jokes at the moment that is now,” Fawful reassured her.

They had gotten to their vehicles with mere seconds to spare, and they would have to cut their discussion short. Fawful jumped into his kart while Mimi hopped onto her bike just as a Lakitu holding a traffic light floated overhead. The rumble of the idling engines was soothing as a cat’s purr, punctuated by each low “beep” of the countdown. As soon as the signal in the Lakitu’s grasp turned green, everyone sped forward. The curvy forest road was still quite the sight to behold, even as a bunch of kart racers were zooming along and throwing items that they grabbed from the blocks placed on the road. Fawful’s initial placement at the starting line wasn’t doing him any favors, but those who had been located closer to the front were already starting to fall behind due to the hectic nature of everything.

In spite of the many shells being flung back and forth, Fawful managed to get through the first part of the lap without a scratch. He managed to grab an item block of his own, but just before the block had decided what item it should bestow upon him, he felt a heavy impact to the back of his kart and spun out. Orange pieces of shattered shell flew around him as he caught a glimpse of the one responsible for the assault; to his surprise, it was Luigi, an uncharacteristic intense glare in his eyes as he drove past. “That is...not being the green mustache I had memory of...” Fawful gasped. He shook his head, and before he could let this shift in demeanor of the meeker Mario Bro get to his mind, he shoved whatever item he had received from the block into his exhaust without even looking to see what it was.

Instantly his kart rocketed forth at a speed he had thought impossible. An invigorating sensation enveloped the space around both Fawful and his kart, and in that moment as he sped through the city he felt that absolutely nothing bad could happen to him, and he may have just been imagining it but he swore he could hear some sort of upbeat music around him as well. He passed several other racers under the influence of this power and accidentally ran into Daisy, sending her and her bike flying. The energy boost soon faded away, but it was enough to get him at least a few places within first.

Speeding through the toll booth and onward to the second lap, Fawful steadily climbed up the ranks and was soon in second place. He could see the tail end of Mario’s kart past the road’s curvature, and having just grabbed something from an item block he was more than ready to overtake the red-clad plumber. He closed in and threw the item, a shell like what Luigi had hit him with but instead blue and covered in spikes. He threw it and it seemed to home in on Mario, dropping down and exploding on contact. Fawful let out a laugh, but quickly realized he was heading straight toward the growing blast radius and wouldn’t be able to move out of the way in time. He was caught in his own crossfire and sent spinning out along with his target, a couple of racers passing them by. The setback was very brief for both as they quickly recovered, but a non-racer vehicle soon came barreling toward them. Fawful was able to get out of its path just in time, but it ran Mario over with no hesitation.

The second lap had been finished and the third was soon coming to a close. Due to other racers’ competitiveness and abundance of items on all sides, Fawful had taken the lead without even noticing. The finish line was just beyond the tollbooth—he was going to win! His assurance of his own victory was so strong that he only barely heard the whistling whoosh of something approaching him from behind.

_CRASH!_

The spiny shell came down on him like a ton of bricks and the weight of disappointment. His kart tumbled over the finish line just as Mimi passed him by, though judging by the slightly startled expression on her face he could guess that she hadn’t been the one to throw it. “The place of second,” Fawful murmured to himself as he managed to right his kart and start it up again to make his way to the place announcement. “That will not have such badness, all of the things in consideration.”

Soon enough, all the racers had finished their final lap. On a screen mounted above a side area of the track, all of the places had been listed except for two: first and second place. “This is definitely one of the ten closest finishes we’ve had in the last two years,” one of the Lakitu staffers said with a laugh as he analyzed the finish line footage.

“I’m just surprised that no matter the result, the two newcomers are both on top,” another Lakitu said. “Ho-ly _crap_ , honestly was _not_ expecting them to do so well.”

Fawful and Mimi, meanwhile, were both understandable anxious. The fact that they were both either first or second did nothing to ease them—in fact, it was the very uncertainty of who was which that had them on edge. Eventually, the Lakitus made their way to the racers in order to make their announcement. “We can finally announce this race’s winner!” one of the Lakitus exclaimed. “It was incredibly close as you all know, but once we were able to clear the spiny shell smoke from the footage and slow it down, it appears as though the back end of Fawful’s kart tumbled over the finish line just before the front tire of Mimi’s bike. And if the veteran racers will recall the Wario Reversal incident of ‘03, either end of the racer’s vehicle that crosses the finish line counts. So that leaves us with our first-place racer being Fawful!”

“I HAVE VICTORY!” Fawful exclaimed. He had believed victory to be a certainty, if his incredibly high self-esteem had anything to say about it, but at the same time he was in an elated sense of disbelief. His delight of triumph seemed to briefly put him in his own world. Bowser jeering, Wario and Waluigi joining in, Luigi and Link politely clapping for him, even Mimi excitedly jumping up and down beside him in her own near-victory; nothing could disrupt his happiness in this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date December 5, 2016)


	7. Bonding over Issues of the Past

The rush of victory was still in Fawful’s mind as he returned to the garage. After what he had been through before the race, placing first was quite the high note of the evening. Sure, he still had three races to go and he could easily screw himself over if he did poorly in one or more of them, but for now he was sitting pretty. He noticed Mimi waving him over, so he went over to meet her at a bench placed near a reflecting pool. Once taking a seat beside her, she immediately asked, “So, how’s it feel to be a winner?”

“It has the feeling of amazement,” Fawful gloated. “Though, in all of the fairness, the winner could have been you with much ease.”

“Hehe, yeah,” Mimi giggled. “But all that aside, you mind explaining what that whole thing with the magic bean person? Like, what was that weird pink stuff? Were they the reason you almost missed the race?”

Fawful nodded. “Yes, they had the taking of Fawful the night of last,” he said. “I am thinking...if I am to be drinking that thing of delicious cream from the bar, it should be without the brain-slowing alcohol.”

“I think you can look up a non-alcoholic alternative online,” Mimi mused. “But about that other thing, the pink stuff? What was that stuff?”

“I had telling you it would be a story of much length, right?” Fawful asked rhetorically.

“We’ve got all night.” Mimi glanced up at the starry sky, kicking her feet back and forth absentmindedly.

“If I am telling you the story from the very beginning, will you give explanation for your supposed form of truth being...what it is being?” Fawful wasn’t really used to keeping a sense of tact to his words, but something Mimi had said earlier that night had made him want to stay in her good graces moreso than the threat of turning into a giant spider at any moment would.

“I...I could try,” Mimi said. “Truth is, I don’t really remember all the details, but I could try my best.”

“All right, I will have spilling of all the beans,” Fawful said, well aware of the pun. “It had beginning when Fawful was being very small. Small Fawful had so much brains but there was being no way to make use of them. Soon he was being under the care of a witch of greatness and power, Cackletta. With the guidance of Cackletta, Small Fawful was making use of his smartness for the building of gadgets and developing the means of which to awaken a Beanbean artifact—the Bean Star!”

“Bean Star?” Mimi repeated, a bit incredulous. “So your witch mom wanted to steal a star made of beans? That sounds silly.”

“The Bean Star did not have silliness!” Fawful said. “It had the ability for wish-granting! But it also had the sleeping, so we were of the need for waking it after we were taking it. Can you be guessing how it was to be done?”

Mimi thought for a bit, then suggested, “Put a bunch of magic energy into it?”

“That has incorrectness, but it is being a guess of smarts,” Fawful said. “It was to be sleeping until it had the hearing of a voice of purity. That voice was to be from a princess of silly peaches.”

“Princess Peach?” Mimi gasped. “So you guys kidnapped her, is that it?”

“That was not being the first attempt,” Fawful said, his trademark grin widened. “We were only needing the voice, not the rest of the princess. So that was all we were to be taking. And that is being the answer of length for your question originality. The ‘pink stuff’ was being a voice.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Mimi said, confused. “Unless there’s a way to turn sound into stuff...”

“The process was one of much complication,” Fawful continued, “but thanks to Fawful’s brilliance, we did indeed have development of a formula to be temporarily removing the voice and giving a form of physicality. The testing on myself and the accidental inhalation was never having the fun, though...” He made a face of disgust, remembering the foul taste of his own voice that he had to endure both back then and mere hours ago.

Mimi looked a bit worried. “You didn’t seriously test that stuff on yourself...”

“When you are not having any pigs of guinea, you do the testing on what you are having.”

“Well, that would explain why you talk so weird,” Mimi murmured. “All that testing on your own voice probably screwed up your words.”

Fawful shrugged. “That is having half of the truth,” he said with a laugh. “After so many of the self-trials, I had the discovery that talking a lot when the voice had removal gave it the comeback faster. I just started giving the sentences I used words in extra. I was then doing the process of recovering when not needed because it was being fun! And... it became a habit of badness.”

“So you _can_ talk normal!”

“I only talk normal when I want to, or need to,” Fawful said, briefly dropping his typical speech mannerisms to prove his point. “Most times I am not wanting or needing.”

“I think the weird word order makes you sound kinda cute in a strange sort of way,” Mimi giggled.

Fawful could feel his face flush. “I-I do not have cuteness!” he blurted out in embarrassment as he turned away slightly. “I have the manliness like hell.”

“Only cute people deny their cuteness,” Mimi said with a sly smile. “You still didn’t explain about those people, though. What’d they want with you?”

“I am not knowing,” Fawful said. “The one called Edame—they said they were needing me for...someone who they never gave the name of. They were not wanting to, or able to, have the giving of details.” He turned back to Mimi. “So I think I had the answering of all of your questions that I have knowledge of. Now it is the turn of you. Why do you have the form of a spider that has amazement?”

“Oh, that,” Mimi said, seeming a bit more distant. “Like I said, I don’t remember much. I think I was a normal girl at one point, or maybe I was always a spider and somehow became a girl. Either way, I’m sure I was experimented on, and eventually I became what I am now—a shapeshifter with a secret that I can’t let anyone close to me find out about or they’ll hate me forever. ...Well, almost anyone.”

“You are meaning me?” Fawful asked, slightly joking.

“You and a few others,” Mimi said. “There’s only two others now, and even years ago there were only two more.” She sighed. “I still miss him a lot...”

“Who is it that you have missing?” Fawful asked. “Or...would that question be too much in the direction of prying?”

“No, it’s okay,” Mimi said. “You would’ve been affected by his actions anyway, even if you never met him. His name was Count Bleck.” The way she said the name gave off an air of admiration. “He took me in when I was at my lowest, took us all in like that to an extent. We were like a weird family of outcasts, and together, we were going to fulfill a prophecy that was really important to the count. We were going to destroy the universe.”

Fawful nearly fell off the bench in shock. Sure, he was definitely no saint himself, but destroying the universe seemed...a tad overkill. “That is being...quite the goal of loftiness,” he finally said.

“Yeah, and obviously it didn’t work,” Mimi replied. “Mostly because Mario and the other heroes showed up, but also the count’s girlfriend came back from the dead or something like that and then his heart wasn’t completely in it anymore. Until that point, we were behind him all the way, and once he decided he wasn’t gonna go through it anymore three of us stuck around and tried to help undo everything. Then things happened, the count got married and disappeared and the universe was saved. Nassy says they’re still around somewhere, but I don’t know if that’s true or if it’s just what she wants to believe...”

“Nassy?” Fawful asked.

“Oh, right. Nastasia, she was like Count Bleck’s assistant and basically kept everything running smoothly. Pretty sure she had a crush on the count, maybe still does, but what sensible girl interested in men wouldn’t?” Mimi laughed and blushed a bit. “Oops, I can’t believe I let that slip out! Oh well, it’s not like anyone but Tippi would ever have a chance with him. He was totally one of those guys who felt his first love was his soulmate and no one else could do it for him, and this is one of the rare cases where it was mutual.” She sighed, then continued. “There was also O’Chunks. He’s big, strong, and not the brightest crayon in the box, with a gross beard that he barely washes, but he’s got a heart nearly as big as he is. Then there were two more, one of ‘em wasn’t really around for long and probably wouldn’t to be remembered like that, and the last one...” She grimaced, as though remembering whoever she was talking about made her sick to her stomach.

“If you are needing a stop, it will have okayness,” Fawful said. “I don’t want you to have discomfort.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Mimi insisted. “The last guy was Dimentio. He was around since near the beginning, and we thought he was one of us. He was a jerk who always teased us and would sneak into my room and read my diary, but on some level I actually thought he was my friend, but like the weird friend that probably shouldn’t be your friend. Then when Mario and the others had the count nearly beat, he swooped in and revealed he’d been basically screwing us over the whole time so he could take it all for himself! Okay, maybe not the WHOLE time, maybe he was going along with it until he found something out that he didn’t like, but it’s more likely he was just a massive self-centered jerkface all along! I hate him and his dumb magic tricks! I’m glad he’s gone forever!” She then glanced down. “At least, I thought he was. But earlier, when that bean person hit you with magic, it reminded me of...” She shook her head fervently, her blocky pigtails flopping back and forth. “No, I can’t think like that. He’s dead and gone and he can’t get to any of us ever again. But yeah, that’s why I turned into...well, into my true form when you got hit by that. I thought he had come back and I snapped.”

“I am in understanding of that,” Fawful said sheepishly. “Countless times Fawful has had more fury than anyone is knowing what to do with, like a large crate of mustard bottles and only one corn dog.”

Mimi’s eyes shifted. “He used to do a lot of weird similes as well,” she said. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with it coming from you! I swear!”

“I have apology if that is making you bothered,” Fawful said. He reached over to put a reassuring hand on Mimi’s shoulder, but she let out a small yelp and jerked away. “What is being wrong?” he asked.

“You didn’t feel that?” Mimi asked, rubbing where he had almost touched her. “You shocked me like crazy just then! Didn’t that Cackletta lady ever teach you about dryer sheets?”

“I was not being aware I had the statics...” Fawful said, but then he noticed Mimi’s gaze staring right at his hand. He looked at it himself and saw large arcs of electricity dancing across his fingers and palm. Strangely, it didn’t hurt him in the slightest, merely a gentle tingle once he actually noticed it. “That...has interest.”

“So you haven’t always been able to do that?” Mimi asked.

Fawful shook his head, both intrigued and confused. “This is being new to me as well,” he said. “I have knowledge of what it is, but not where I am getting the ability to have use of it...”

“Well, maybe you’ll figure it out after some sleepy-time thinking,” Mimi said, standing up. “It’s getting kinda late, so I’m gonna head to bed. See ya tomorrow, all right?”

“That has a sounding of good,” Fawful replied. He gave her a smile, not his typical crazy one, but a friendly one.

Mimi skipped off to the hotel, and after just a bit of trying to figure out how to turn off his newly acquired power, Fawful stood up to head back as well. As he made his way back, he caught sight of something reflecting the moonlight from within a bush. Curious, Fawful approached it and found a dark colored stone with a broken strap tied around it. Upon further examination, he realized it was the pendant that Edame had been wearing. For whatever reason, something in his mind told him to keep it. He knew he probably shouldn’t, as he had witnessed the thing nearly kill its wearer, but at the same time he figured that it would be safe as long as he never put it on. Making sure no one else was watching, Fawful pocketed the broken pendant and casually made his way back to the hotel. After what he’d been through, sleep couldn’t come soon enough.

\-----

As it so happened, sleep barely came at all for the bean. Since everyone who had been invited to participate in the tournament preliminaries were allowed to stay as spectators, and the spectators were allowed to remain checked into their hotel rooms, he had been forced to endure yet another night of Iggy Koopa’s god-awful snoring intermingled with sleep-talking. Not to mention his mind had been racing from its inability to resist imagining the people that Mimi had told him about. He couldn’t help trying to guess what they might look like, and while he thought he had what he believed was a genuinely good idea, whatever place Mimi was from probably had people that looked nothing like anyone he had ever seen before. And he couldn’t help but wonder who the mystery sixth person she had briefly mentioned was, and for whatever reason he had the strangest inkling that it was someone he already knew...but that was impossible, right?

Regardless, Fawful went through the day as best he could on such little sleep. He felt a bit dazed, as was to be expected, but he wasn’t aware of just how out of it he really was until he was halfway through eating a chicken sandwich when he had ordered a hamburger instead. Thankfully he was able to remedy this with a quick nap, and by the time he woke up it was just about time for the next race. Fully rested and with a clear mind, he made his way down to the garage.

Unlike the previous race, Fawful was among the first ones there. He made his way over to his vehicle, which was already parked in the first place spot directly diagonal to Mimi’s bike. Speaking of Mimi, she arrived shortly after he did, waving and smiling as she approached. “Hey, good luck in the race!” Mimi said cheerfully.

“Be having the luck of goodness yourself,” Fawful said with a grin. Soon enough, everyone else had arrived, and right on time as well. The Lakitu in charge of signaling the start of the race flew overhead and turned on his lights. The beeps of the signal as the lights pulsed seemed to match Fawful’s increasing adrenaline. As soon as the final signal went off, everyone set off down the long, winding road ahead of them. As they drove through the trees several Pestnuts dropped onto the road, and while most were able to avoid them quite handily, others were not so lucky as the barb-covered creatures collided with their vehicles and sent them spinning out.

Fawful sped around the group of thin trees and the Pestnuts dropping from them, heading toward the first set of anti-gravity generators. He passed the Chuckleroot and activated the anti-gravity generator, grabbing an item along the way for good measure. As he drove along the wall cliff behind the old tree, the item he had picked up revealed itself to be a set of three banana peels. He rolled his eyes, carelessly tossing all of the peels behind him.

The rest of that lap was relatively uneventful, at least for him if not for anyone else, as was the second until he returned to the bridge over the hedge maze. A barrage of red shells was fired toward the back of Fawful’s car, knocking him off the bridge and into the hedges below. He saw Link and Mario pass by overhead just before the Lakitu attendant pulled him back onto the track. As soon as his tires touched road once again he gunned it, determined to catch up to them through the waterfall cave.

Unfortunately, the two racers in front of him were stubbornly keeping their lead, even as they sailed upside-down over the chateau and started the final lap. As the three leading racers sped through the track, with Link and Mario regularly trading places, Fawful grabbed an item box and was preparing to use whatever came out to hopefully take first. A red shell—perfect. He threw it at the dueling pair and the shell collided with Mario, sending him for a loop. Overtaking the plumber with no mercy, Fawful sped toward Link, the two trading places frequently until approaching the chateau.

Unlike the race from the previous night, there would be no photo finish. By the time Fawful’s front wheel crossed the finish line, Link’s bike had overtake him once more and was already half-way over. Second place, he knew it, even before the results were officially recorded. Well, it’s not like his only shot at winning relied on an unbroken first-place streak. Fawful was undeterred—as long as he didn’t royally screw up in the last two races, he would be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date February 3, 2017)


	8. Wuhu, Baby Death

“You actually took that pretty well, placing in second and everything,” Link said with a smile as he handed both Fawful and Mimi drinks.

Mimi giggled. “Yeah, you seem like the type who’s first place or bust!” she said. “Still, better than poopy fourth. Or last.” She glanced over at Isabelle, who was sitting a reasonable distance away to avoid making Fawful uncomfortable.

“I am having surprise with my acceptance as well,” Fawful admitted. “If I were making the guess, it would be that the numbers of the points are noting the first two placements of mine to have a safe fairness if I am not screwing up too heavily.”

“Makes sense,” Mimi said with a small nod. “At least I know you’ll be a good challenge based on how you’ve been doing so far, it’ll make it all that more worth it when I beat you!”

Fawful laughed. “It is Fawful who will be doing the beating! Let us have the hope that you will be accepting the place of second with dignity.”

“No way!” Mimi exclaimed. “I can totally come back from this! I’ve got a winner’s spirit, and a winner’s smile too!”

“I am the one with the smile of the winner!” Fawful said, grinning broadly as if to prove his point.

“As if!” Mimi stuck out her tongue. “Maybe if you got some braces!”

A sudden noise startled Fawful and Mimi out of their banter. They both turned to see Link with his hand up to his face, eyes wide and brown liquid dripping from his fingers. “Sorry, still not used to the weird bubbles in this stuff,” he said sheepishly.

“Well, either way, we’ve got the rest of the day to waste until the next race,” Mimi said. “You guys wanna go get something to eat?”

“That has the sound of goodness,” Fawful replied with a smile. “But I am not wanting the alcohol again.”

\-----

That afternoon, the racers all gathered on the Maka Wuhu track. The beach was once again filled with strange-looking spectators, pausing their games with their dogs in order to not miss the action around them. Fawful was now positioned in the second starting position right behind Link, but he was confident that he could easily get ahead of him once the race began proper. He grinned at Link, who responded with a playful smirk.

The signal counted down and the racers were off. They all drove down the beachside road, heading towards the suspension bridge. Fawful had made enough jumps on the trick ramps to get a decent boost past Link, avoiding the parked car past the booster and keeping his lead. As he reached the dirt road, he could see out of the corner of his eye that someone was gaining on him. Mimi was swiftly approaching, the sheen of the golden mushroom she must have just used swirling around her. He was ready for her, having just gotten a banana peel. He tossed it backward before she had time to react, and just as he had expected Mimi collided with the banana and spun out. He drove down one of the forks in the road, not seeing Mimi reemerge even as he hit the bridge.

The second lap marker was just ahead. Driving under the waterfall and into the cave beyond, Fawful was so caught up in what he could only assume was an assured victory that he missed the turn and would have nearly went straight over the drop-off if not for the Lakitu latching onto his car just before anything serious happened. That brief drop in speed was all it took for Mimi to catch up to and pass him, boosting over the trick ramps with her gleeful giggling echoing through the cavern. Fawful’s eyes narrowed as he sped up, exiting the cave to the cliffside exterior. As he approached the lake and the castle nearby, he grabbed an item box with a mushroom inside, which he used to make a shortcut through the castle and catch up to Mimi.

He reached the third lap marker, neck and neck with Mimi as they turned along the cliffside. He would pass by her briefly, then she would do the same, and as they both headed for the straight-away it was all they could do to avoid the falling rocks and still keep the pace they had set for themselves. Fawful picked up an item box on the way downhill, gaining a mushroom which he used to gain a decent boost of speed over Mimi. He laughed as he hit the ramp and began to glide down towards the beach, confident that he had the win in the bag.

He heard it long before he registered what was going on. As he was just about to touch down on the sandy beach, something impacted the back of his vehicle and sent him spinning out, shards of red-orange material scattering over the sand by him. Mimi sped past him, giggling with glee. Fawful grimaced and floored the gas, speeding towards her as fast as possible. They were both reaching the finish line, he involuntarily closed his eyes as the two of them got closer, not seeing who had gone over the line first until he heard the flag waving frantically beside them as they passed.

“Sorry, Fawfie, you just barely missed it!”

Fawful opened his eyes. He saw Mimi and her bike slightly in front of him as she had crossed the finish line just before he did. She was smiling happily, and the results screen overhead confirmed what her expression and statement had already told him. Second place, yet again. He let his head rest against the steering wheel, more out of frustration than anything, ignoring everyone driving around him as they also crossed the finish.

\-----

After the race, time passed by pleasantly and surprisingly quickly, as before long it was the evening. Fawful made his way back to the garage, intending to once again boost the power of his vehicle. He was probably pushing the limits of what was allowed, as he had no idea if modification to the vehicles was allowed after the tournament proper had been underway for a while, but he figured it would do no harm, and more in character than his previous loss he was admittedly still a bit sore about having placed second again. He also suspected that he had gotten something caught up in the undercarriage in the previous race anyway, so he might as well check and possibly clear out whatever it might be while he was there.

Fawful crawled underneath his vehicle, preparing to start fiddling around with whatever came to mind. He grabbed a wrench, not yet wanting to use it before he knew exactly what he was going for, and examined the systems attached to the undercarriage. It was, predictably, filthy from the fair amount of off-roading he had done, but otherwise there didn’t seem to be anything lodged in that was large enough to worry about.

His mechanic’s state of mind was shattered by an unexpected sound. It was soft, but due to the lack of most other noise in the evening atmosphere was completely audible. He nearly cracked his head trying to stand, having briefly forgotten he was underneath his vehicle. Alert and on edge, Fawful stood and looked around, not knowing where the sound had come from or even what it really was. He then heard it again, a light pattering across concrete that sounded like footsteps. Was it that thief again? Or someone else, maybe the people who had kidnapped him? He still couldn’t pinpoint the sound’s source, and he wasn’t going to take any chances in case it was the kidnappers. He pulled out his ray gun...

“Fobble!”

Fawful yelped and turned toward the sudden voice, ready to aim at them, but before he could fire his gun a huge bolt of lightning arced out of his arm, striking the small uninvited guest hard. He could only watch in horror as sparks flew from his outstretched hand and into the body of Baby Luigi, who fell to the ground motionless aside from involuntary twitching. “Oh no...” Fawful gasped. “Oh no, oh no, no, no, this can’t have the happening...” He managed to make the electricity stop, but he knew it was probably already too late. “Somebody help!” he shouted. The few nighttime security staff that were present came rushing toward them, and when they saw Baby Luigi unconscious on the ground they immediately radioed for someone to call an ambulance.

The commotion from the incident caused some of the other racers and spectators to make their way over to the garage, where they saw the scene and became either confused, shocked, or enraged. As the ambulance arrived, the security staff carried Baby Luigi over and they loaded him in. Just as the ambulance was about to leave, Mario rushed over, carrying the full-grown Luigi on his back. The adult Luigi seemed to be going through the exact same thing as his baby counterpart. “Wait! Wait!” he cried. “My brother...something’s wrong with Lui—” He then noticed Baby Luigi already strapped onto a child-sized gurney, his eyes widening in shock. Soon enough they were able to get the older Luigi into the ambulance as well, and they were soon driven off to the hospital.

On all accounts, the situation had gone from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date June 21, 2017)


	9. Left, A, Down, Left, A, Down

The beeping of the various monitors hooked up to Luigi only served to punctuate the heavy tension in the hospital room. Mario could only look on as his brother laid in the bed, barely moving except for the occasional twitch accompanied with a slight moan. He didn’t even want to think about Luigi’s baby counterpart, who the doctors said was in even worse condition.

A light knock at the door took Mario’s attention away from Luigi, and as he turned his head the door cracked open and a green head hesitantly poked through. Not saying a word, Mario motioned for Fawful to come in. He did, seeming more reserved and perhaps even uncharacteristically timid. “Is he...having improvement?” Fawful asked sheepishly.

“I don’t know,” Mario replied. “He’s stabilized, at least, but since they couldn’t even figure out why...”

“It is being the fault of mine,” Fawful murmured.

“Your fault?” Mario asked. “How...but you were nowhere near him when he collapsed...”

“But you have the knowledge of what happened to the baby of his likeness, yes?” Fawful asked. “I... I am insisting it was being accidental. The damage I had causing must have effect on Luigi due to the shenanigans of time.”

Mario said nothing. He removed his hat and sighed. “I think you should leave, Fawful,” he said finally. For once, Fawful had no clever retort. He merely nodded and exited the room once more. From down the hall, he could hear the loud, angry stomps of heavy footsteps, and they were approaching fast.

“Bowser, _no!_ ” Peach’s voice trailed down the hall, clearly in pursuit of whoever was stomping toward him. "What makes you think he's the one responsible for this?”

“I know when someone’s up to something better than anyone else here!” Bowser’s voice shouted, and soon enough the rest of him came into view. He noticed Fawful and narrowed his gaze. "Don't you dare move, green bean!” he bellowed, running at him in a rage. Fawful tried to run, but Bowser’s larger size (and thus longer stride) allowed him to catch up before he could get very far. He grabbed Fawful and pinned him up against the wall, his claws wrapped around his neck loose enough to merely put the fear of them tightening into him without actually doing it. “What the hell’s your deal, you little dweeb?!” Bowser roared. “No one’s allowed to take out either of those plumbers without MY say-so!”

“You can’t just blame him for this!" Peach, having finally caught up to Bowser, insisted. “That thunder thing with Baby Luigi was an accident!”

“Yeah, but how’d he get that power, huh?” Bowser retorted. “Didn’t you say that last time we were in the Beanbean Kingdom that Luigi got some fancy electrical powers? So how’d this nutty bean get it, then? Ripped it out of him somehow, I bet!”

“I-I swear I am not knowing...” Fawful said, trying not to give Bowser any reason to tighten his grip around him.

“A likely story,” Bowser growled.

“I can’t _believe_ you!” Peach said exasperatedly. “Bowser, please, just let him go!”

Bowser let out another growl of protest, but complied with the princess's wishes. He dropped Fawful and stormed off in a huff. Gingerly rubbing his neck, Fawful breathed a sigh of relief before standing back up. “I...have the thinking that I will be leaving to the lobby,” he said.

“That’s probably for the best,” Peach said. Clearly she didn't trust him as well as she had seemed to before, or at least she didn't trust his newfound ability to not go off without warning.

Quickly, Fawful made his way to the elevator and headed down to the ground floor. Once there, he noticed Link sitting on one of the couches in the waiting room. “So how’re they doing?” Link asked, somewhat somber.

“Luigi is seeming to have stability,” Fawful told him. “I am not knowing about his baby self.”

“That’s troublesome,” Link said. “I...think it’s safe to say the tournament’s being put on hold, huh?”

Fawful didn’t answer, and instead just sat down beside him with a sigh. “I have regret,” he said simply.

“Understandable,” Link said. “But you know it's not your fault, right?”

“But the fault _is_ mine, even with it being accidental,” Fawful insisted. "The thunderhand had the attachment to me, the shock leapt out of me, it is just being me.” He groaned. “I am wishing I could be going back to then and have stopping myself somehow.”

Link jolted upright. “Go back in time, you say?” he asked, intrigued.

“I think that is what I had saying,” Fawful said. “But it lacks the possibility, at least with the materials we are having access to.”

“Maybe not,” Link said. He started to manically check his pockets, before finding what he had been looking for and removing it. The object was a slightly oblong, potato-shaped blue trinket that appeared to be made from some sort of ceramic material, its surface having holes drilled atop it and a piece jutting out from the side. “This might be able to fix everything!” he exclaimed, beaming with pride.

"And...what is that potato being?" Fawful asked.

“This is a relic of the Hyrule royal family,” Link explained. “It’s called the Ocarina of Time. And that name’s not just a fancy title, either. It can actually take someone through time, both forwards and backwards. I’ve only known of it to work within the range of a few days, which might just be perfect for what you want.”

“And your claims are having the truthfulness?” Fawful’s eyes widened at the prospect.

“Well, in all fairness, I’ve never tried it myself,” Link said. “I’ve heard that someone similar to me used it for that purpose, but I have no idea if that was real or just a legend. And if it was true, for all I know, it could’ve had its magic exhausted by now.”

“There is being no reason for us to not try!” Fawful exclaimed.

“All right, then.” Link stood up, the ocarina held delicately in his hands. “Now if I remember the story about how this works, it’ll send us back to where we were at the time of whenever we get sent back to. I guess that’s to prevent any instances of meeting yourself or something?”

Fawful nodded. “So I am needing to keep my mind at its usual sharpness for the preventing of an incident of repetition,” he said.

“Yeah, just be careful.” Link held out his arm, which Fawful took hold of. When he was sure that Fawful had a good grip on his arm, Link began to play a tune on the ocarina. All of a sudden, the world seemed to fall away, swirling around them to the point where looking at their surroundings started to make Fawful feel ill. He closed his eyes before his stomach rebelled against him, the eerie tune ringing in his mind...

\-----

Fawful’s eyes were still closed, though he could feel that the air around him was now pleasantly warm, especially compared to the overpowering air conditioning he had just been standing in minutes before. “Did it have successfulness?” he asked, but with no answer. He opened his eyes. The walls of the hospital were no longer surrounding him, but were replaced by his vehicle and the garage it had been sitting in. “It did!” he gasped. “Link, we are being—” But Link was no longer beside him. He then remembered how Link had explained the way the ocarina’s time travel worked, and that Link had not been in the garage on the night of the of the incident. “So, it is just being Fawful in loneliness again.”

Everything was just as it was the first time it had happened. He couldn’t see a clock from the part of the garage he was in, and he didn’t trust any timekeeping devices he might have on his person in case they were still on future time like his memories were, but considering that there was no sign of either of the baby Mario Bros and no one was panicking or screaming he had definitely arrived before the incident.

Fawful made his way over to the exact place where he was when the incident proper had taken place, right by his vehicle. It looked like it hadn’t yet been messed with, so perhaps he had gotten there a few minutes early...or closer to an hour. He began to mess around with the vehicle again as he had the first time he had gone through these events, keeping an ear out for any sounds that might indicate the approach of Baby Luigi. Soon enough, he heard it: the tiny footsteps that could only come from someone wearing baby shoes and was still somewhat inexperienced with the art of walking. This time he wouldn't be startled.

“Fobble!” Baby Luigi exclaimed, grabbing onto Fawful’s cape like he had the first time.

“Y-yes, that is the name you are calling me,” Fawful said hesitantly. "Could you be giving me some time alone? I have the need to do some working with this.”

“Fobble not play?”

“No, Fawful will not have playing. You are needing sleep, now go have the sleep.”

Baby Luigi looked disappointed, but as he walked off Fawful knew it was definitely better than being on death's door. It was a strange feeling, having changed the past. In all fairness, he had more than changed the past of a day or so, but if the effect that his prior attack on the younger Luigi had on the older counterpart was anything to go by he had also fixed the course of history. Either way, he had undone his mistake and was now in the clear. He really wasn’t in the proper state of mind to overthink these time shenanigans.

Once he was sure that Baby Luigi was no longer in the area, Fawful made a break for it back to the hotel. He didn’t quite know why, but he felt like it would only make sense to tell Link their impromptu plan had worked—after all, the whole thing would’ve been impossible without him. Also, he no longer had the motivation to try and modify his vehicle, he just wanted to move on to the next day with 100% less chance of someone dying due to his actions.

He entered the lobby to see Link making his way toward the exit. “We have...we have victory,” Fawful told him almost breathlessly, giving him a thumbs-up.

“So it really worked, then?” Link sighed. “That’s a relief. I was actually just about to come see if everything worked out okay. You, uh...you didn’t see your past self or anything, did you?”

Fawful shook his head. “None of the time copies had showing up,” he said.

“Well, that's good,” Link said with a smile. “Maybe we should get some rest. It’s been a crazy day for the two of us, even if no one else experienced it.”

“I am in agreement,” Fawful said. “I have the need for a bed of softness and warmth.”

\-----

The next morning was as normal as the days during a racing tournament could be, at least it was for all but one of the racers. Despite the events of the past night having been reset and thus no one apart from two people remembering any of it, Fawful couldn’t help but feel a bit of tension with the other racers, particularly whenever he was with one of the Luigis. He felt awkward any time he had to make conversation with Luigi or humor Baby Luigi’s babbling, unable to tell at least the older version about the time travel save without him possibly becoming confused of upset. As for Baby Luigi, he could probably explain everything to him with no fear of him not being able to understand any more than how a baby would understand any other complicated concepts, but he wasn’t going to bother trying to explain anything to a freaking _baby_. He wasn’t their dad.

Soon enough, it was time for the final race. The racers were all set to go, waiting outside Woohoo Hooniversity’s doors. As the doors slowly opened before them and the starting lights began, Fawful tightened his grip on his steering wheel, preparing to make this count. He was determined to win this one, for his sake if nothing else.

The lights turned green and the racers set off, speeding through the front hall. They zoomed past the mirrors in the next room, passing into the anti-gravity field that took them onto the ceiling. As Fawful was gaining on the two in first and second place, he heard something coming up behind him. He glanced back just in time to see a red shell smack right into him, knocking him out of the anti-gravity field and into a large bookshelf along the wall. Mimi sped past him before he managed to recover from his spinout, laughing as she exclaimed tauntingly, “I’m gonna beat you again, Fawful!”

“You will not be having victory this time,” Fawful said with his trademark grin. He made his way through the access tunnel in hot pursuit of those currently placing ahead of him. Once he got into the underground labs, he grabbed an item box that ended up containing a Bullet Bill. He activated it, and upon doing so was shot forward at a high velocity, no longer having direct control over his vehicle but not being directed into any hazards at the same time. The Bullet Bill was taking him through the central vent and into the midair anti-gravity field above the Hooniversity with incredible speed, relinquishing control back to him just before the gliding ramp. He was in second place now, ahead of Mimi and right behind Princess Peach.

Soon enough the three high-placed racers had all started their second lap.  As they made their way through the hall of lights and mirrors again, Yoshi soon came up from behind them and passed both Fawful and Mimi, tossing a green shell behind him that happened to catch Fawful off-guard and sending him back into fourth. They went through the anti-gravity field again and Fawful grabbed the first item box he could get his hands on. He activated it without even looking at the contents within. The whizzing sound that left the box and the blue streak overhead told him all he needed to know. A large burst of blue smoke signaled the impact the blue shell made and he sped past all three of them with a gloating laugh.

The rest of the second lap went smoothly for Fawful, and he was able to slide into the third lap with a healthy lead. He kept the lead all the way through the lights and mirrors and past the library, making his way into the access tunnel and grabbing another item box on the way. As he entered the underground labs, he could hear engines swiftly approaching behind him. He glanced back—Mimi was closing in on him on his left, and Peach on his right, both vying for second place and inching ever closer to taking his place in first. Just then, a strange garbled noise rang out through the lab. Fawful recognized the old Peachbot’s failing speaker and winced a bit, but nothing could take his mind off the goal this time. “What was that?” Peach asked upon hearing the sound, concerned.

“They’ve got some kinda monster down here or something?!” Mimi shrieked.

“It is nothing to have worrying about,” Fawful said with a smirk. “There is only thing you should have the worrying for, and that is the eating of my dust!” He took the banana peel he had been holding onto and tossed it back, knocking Mimi back and sending Peach for a bit of a loop as she attempted evasive maneuvers.

Fawful floored it, speeding through the vent and into the anti-gravity field. As the floating road began to curl on itself, he could hear what he assumed to be Peach and Mimi closing in. He hit the gliding ramp, soaring down to the starting line...closer...almost there...

“We have a winner, people! We have a winner!”

Fawful had touched down just past the starting line, with Peach coming in just after him and Mimi in third place behind her. “Aw, shoot,” Mimi said in a bit of a huff. “I was totally gonna win this time!”

“Well, that was fun,” Peach said happily.

The results screen nearby the starting line showed as everyone was finishing up, placing them each for that race. It then switched over to show how everyone had placed via the combined results of all the races; humorously, Peach and Mimi’s placements in this particular race were switched in the overall placements. That didn’t matter to Fawful, of course. He stared at the name of the number one racer, a sense of giddy pride within him. “I had the success,” he said breathlessly to himself. “I am giving the 110 percents and I am _doing it_.”

\-----

The awards ceremony was as grand as it ever had been. The three highest-placed drivers overall approached the podium in their winning vehicles with crowds of cheering fans on either side of the small road. It was definitely a surprise that the two newcomers to have gotten through the preliminary time trials had both taken first and second, and while he couldn’t speak for Mimi, Fawful knew that he couldn’t be prouder of himself for his accomplishment. Well, to be fair, there were prouder moments in his life, but he could easily overlook them for this one.

Fawful, Mimi, and Peach all stepped onto the podium and onto the level of their respective placement; Peach in third, Mimi in second, and the bean himself in glorious first. A couple of Lakitu floated around with cameras, and a third Lakitu approached the three winners.

“Racers and race fans alike,” the third Lakitu announced, “it is my great pleasure to officially announce the winners of the Beanbean Cup!” Everyone, the racers and the fans, either cheered or politely clapped. “You can no doubt conclude who has won by their positions here, but let’s make it a little more real for everyone, shall we?” A Toad wearing an official race staff vest standing nearby handed Peach a bronze trophy. “In third place, the lovely monarch of the Mushroom Kingdom, Princess Peach!” Peach took hold of her trophy gracefully, to the cheers of nearly everyone.

Another officially-dressed Toad on the other side of the podium handed a silver trophy to Mimi. “In second place, the shapeshifter from another dimension, Mimi!” Mimi also took her trophy, and as the crowd cheered once more she winked at them and giggled.

The announcing Lakitu then pulled the coveted golden trophy out of his cloud, along with a large amount of coins. “And our first place winner,” the Lakitu announced, “the Beanish menace known only as Fawful!”

The crowd erupted in cheering and applause, but Fawful could barely register their excitement over his own glee. He took hold of his well-earned prize and exclaimed proudly, “I have victory!”

“Not for long, you don't!”

All at once, the podium was surrounded by Beanbean Castle guards. They all had their weapons drawn and were pointing them at Fawful. The crowd gasped and began to murmur to themselves in confusion. Soon enough, the person responsible for this revealed himself. Prince Peasley descended from the sky on his winged bean, his own sword drawn. “Now that this event is over, the time seems highly appropriate to finally bring you to justice, Fawful,” Peasley proclaimed, a smug smile on his face. “It would be in your best interest to just come quietly.”

Fawful wasn’t surprised by this turn of events at all. In fact, his own grin barely faltered despite being surrounded by armed guards. “Silly prince of peas and bad hair,” he said with a bit of a laugh. “Are you believing you have gotten the dropping on Fawful?”

Peasley gave him an odd look. “And just what is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“It has meaning...” All at once in a flurry of movement, Fawful had equipped his headgear, gotten a firm hold on his trophy and prize money, and instantly took off from the podium and into the sky. His laughter echoed across the ceremony space as he sped away, leaving the guards dumbfounded and the crowd ecstatic.

As he soared over the Beanbean Kingdom, only slightly weighed down by the physical weight of his winnings and the mental weight of what he was going to do next, his only regret was that he hadn’t stuck around for the afterparty. Of course, it was probably for the best, seeing as how Peasley’s forces likely would have ambushed him there if they hadn’t decided to try detaining him at the award ceremony. For now, he could at least take a small bit of comfort in the fact that he would likely not have to be in hiding anymore, especially if he tried to make a new life for himself in the Mushroom Kingdom.

He would definitely be able to support himself if that were the case, considering the prize money was all in Beanbean coins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (original posting date June 20, 2017)

**Author's Note:**

> (originally posted September 25, 2015)


End file.
